Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story
by ReWritten-string-of-stories
Summary: Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses...
1. Love?

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: We're back for another selection! This time the second most odd pairing (at least that's how most people see it at first, the top place definitely goes to Cho and Neville!) is up for the story-telling time. Stay with me, gals and gents, and let me spin their story out. :) And hint-hint? They are one of two couples that would have gotten together on their own...but it took the Ministry to make them really realize it.**

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Chapter 1 (Prologue) - Love?

_"Love? You can't mean the thing between Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown?" - Luna whispering doubtfully to Ginny, after watching a particularly heavy petting session between the two_.

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I'm pretty sure I've never been a strong believer in romantic love. Not the windswept, the knight in shining armor come to save the damsel from distress kind of love, not the sweeping her off her feet and fixing all her problems sort of love that most people seem to think is what will happen to them. What should happen to them. No, I don't believe in it at all. It's silly and doubtful. It's the kind of love is way too abstract, way too unreal, too idealized for me to believe in. If a wish-granting flying amore pig isn't involved in those kind of loves (and no one's seen those creatures for a decade), I'm just not going to believe it. Not to mention that I've never felt it: no frantic beating of my heart, no nervous blushing or helpless shyness, nothing.

Nothing.

It hasn't happened to me and somehow I don't think it ever will. And I'm happy about it - after all I've always had myself for company.

Romance wasn't anything I saw in school – indeed, for the majority of my time at Hogwarts, I was isolated. Pointed at. Whispered about. Usually, it didn't matter to me one way or another what my schoolmates thought about me. I had my Dad and the paper and the investigation of things people believe to be unseen but exist all around. Besides, there weren't a lot of people who I found magnetic enough to attract my interest.

Except Harry Potter.

Someone who was always pointed at and whispered about. Sort of like me. Except Harry had a heavier burden – I'd say saving the magical world was probably a pretty hefty weight for a teenager who'd just discovered who he was and what he was meant to do. To have all these people look at you with stars in your eyes, the legend preceding you, and having to navigate an entirely new world that you hadn't know existed until you turned eleven...A much much heavier burden. Harry had Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley to help him, cheer him up, make it better. But I could see that sometimes they weren't enough.

There are some things that you have to deal with alone. And it's usually these selfsame things that have the ability to make or break you.

Harry was a little bit darker than the rest of his Year from the start. He'd already seen things, been through some things that were a bit different. When we really became friends, right before the start of the War, I learned that his aunt and uncle hadn't raised him the same as his cousin. He'd been hated in house – in fact, he'd lived in a cupboard room instead of an actual bedroom. I think that sort of begin made sense to me – why Harry was a little bit separate. And what with him being the reason his parents were killed by Voldemort, Harry's propensity for saving and avenging were kind of…self-explanatory.

It was from there that I became friends with his year. Ginny, one of the best of my friends, I'd already seen and spoken to by Fourth Year. Neville, who is the closest thing to a brother that I've ever had, was so very earnest and honest that I think he would have roused my interest eventually. Hermione, who I knew for a fact thought I was strange from the start, took a long time to warm too. But when it happened, it was instant and we were permanent friends. Seamus, the one Irish Gryffindor in his year, was funny. And then there was his best mate, Dean.

Dean Thomas.

Dean was tall and gentle and so very…comfortable…to me. He was always polite, always conscientious yet he rarely spoke without weighing his words. He was happy and cheerful, and had a wry subtle sense of humor all his own, that I couldn't help but be a little bit lighter just being around him. Yet, he was also like Hermione, thinking I was incredibly strange. But he seemed to just skip right over the part that usually came after people meet me, the awkward silence that the polite ones try and fill before making excuses to leave and the rude ones simply leave. He treated me like the rest...like I wasn't nicknamed 'Loony Lovegood', like I wasn't always talking about my father's magazine. My explanation of fire-breathing Smygmies, a unique cross-breed of pygmies and snockerels, and Nargles didn't throw him off at the very first. And that was a refreshing change. Even though he was so nice that it didn't immediately garner my attention, I appreciated it. And once Ginny had brought me into the circle, I ran into him more and more often. Either with Seamus and Lavender or with some other Gryffindors. And slowly, we started to get to know each other. Believe me, those first few weeks of our acquaintance were the strangest of any acquaintances I'd had yet. But it was so…

Comfortable.

That was what it was in a nutshell. Dean and I slipped into that kind of easy going friendship that few experience but many envy. It was easy, effortless, not even really requiring words or heavy conversation to keep the mechanics of it minutes would go by in silence that I didn't feel the need to fill, nor he. Amazing to find something like that, skirting above weighty words, skimming the top. I only ever saw the good side of him that first month, the month leading up to the official start of the War.

And the War? Daddy had refused to leave the country but had agreed to aid the effort through indirect spy-work. Daddy is an unregistered - changing into a calico tabby cat, unremarkable except for the blueness of his eyes. I'd been worried about the danger of the job but Daddy had wanted to help out in any way he could, and Professor McGonagoll had decided it would be for the best. Wartime was indescribable. Death Eaters were on the run, news of the giants gathering up north, the centaurs gone from the Forbidden Forest, parents taking their kids out of Hogwarts in droves. We were their the first month of that Year before Harry made the decision to leave. And if he was leaving, we were going with him. Not just us, his friends, but many of the kids of Dumbledore's Army - with or without their parents permission. Taking hold of our destinies was intimidating and terrifying and courageous in parts. And it was the deciding part, the doing part, that banded the youngest members of the Order together tighter than anything else. We were apart of something greater, and we might lose our lives in standing up for this, but we were going to do it anyway. No one knew better than the adults what to expect of the days ahead, but no one understood better than Harry what had to be done. And he did it all - worked hard on learning the dueling skills needed, improved upon some and created new shields of his own to aid in protecting and fighting against the Dark Side.

Those dark days would have been unbearable, had I still been as alone as I was during my school years. Neville and Ginny were my constant companions in Guilding Place, the Order of the Phoenix's refuge and stronghold. And Dean was there too, albeit a more serious Dean, but I enjoyed his company all the more for the now-rare laughter that he engaged in. Then the battles begun. At first, the adults shielded us from battle. I'd like to say that I'm one of the more levelheaded teens of my peergroup, and that Professor McGonall and Lady Vance and Moody and Lupin were dead-set against us doing much more than providing Healing or Support on the grounds. Casualties weren't high, that I knew of, in that first month, and we were all kept close together. But Harry was adamant that we be added to the ranks of the army - and pretty soon, his demands for active duty were taken up by the rest.

The first battle I was involved in was almost too much for me. The adults had aquiesced...finally...talking down Tonks and Molly Weasley and Hagrid, but could only compromise so much. They'd wanted us prepared but in a situation where we would know what to expect. And so, against all hopes, the forty-or-so of us were divided into half with one half stationed at home and other half out to scout for enemy movement in the rural outskirts of Alberdon. I was of the second half. My group consisted of Tonks as the adult leader, and Lavender Brown, Anthony Goldstein and Neville Longbottom finishing my small group of five. The abandoned building we'd specifically been sent to search was thankfully empty, and all the sleuth tactics that we'd practiced at the base were finally put into use. All had been clear...

Until I'd heard a scream and spun around just in time to see a thin beam of bright green light shoot into the air a hundred yards away. The signal for help from the Light Side. All hell had broken out with all groups sprinting towards the blazing light in the sky. I myself was off running before I could think too deeply about it. My mind was a blur, my legs pumping dirt into the air behind me, my breath coming in short gasps from the exertion. Thank God for my quick reflexes because once into the forest things kept coming at me. Two Death Eaters appeared suddenly on my right, and doing the only think I could, I ducked, rolled and managed to elbow one between the ribs before taking off again with the dimming green light in sight. My thoughts had been muddled: green light and help being everything my being was focused on.

And then I had reached the clearing, jumping unconsciously right into battle. Spells everywhere, the eerie whizzing of shooting charms and speeding curses leaving flaming trails of pretty light all over the place. In a glance I took in the situation - all in all, it was rather even, even with the three or four wizards and witches down at various points. I slowed down, whipped out the wand, and began wending my way through the fold. And, of course, my arrival heralded the arrival of a few more groups so attacks began immediately.

It seemed like it was just a long blur of fighting after that...my arms were tired and I had a head injury that made it difficult to concentrate, not to mention the blood that trickled down the sides of my face. I fought and fought until I thought that I was beyond doing anything but that, but my energy waned, and I found myself struggling to stay above. Before I knew it, I was crawling to the edge of the clearing and fighting from a crouch, shooting off really basic levitation spells and distractive charms because I couldn't do a lot more. I'd to wait for a lull, and thankfully it looked like the battle was coming to an end.

"You alright?"

Dean. My friend. And, at the moment, a savior. He looked as tired as I felt but he offered me a smile and an urgent hand and pulling me to my feet easily. Two spells went off so quickly in the air above us that I had no time to react. Dean went into battle mode though - deflecting the two of them and destabilizing one attacker. I couldn't even nod, could barely support myself, so I just leaned against the tree gratefully.

"Stay with me, Luna," he shouted again, shaking my shoulders. "Stay with me."

"Very," I gasped, "tired."

"I know," he said urgently. "But I need you to stay conscious. Hold on to me and I'll get us out, okay?"

I nodded wordlessly and clutched his rough cloak. It was all that was keeping me standing at that point. Really.

So I held on and kept my eyes open wide and even propped up my wand to watch his back. I held on and walked and Dean never left me, never had to look back to see if I was still there. Crazy how tired I'd felt, crazy how much I'd wanted to just sort of close my eyes and sleep for a bit. But it was war and I was in the middle of battle and the sky would freeze over before I let myself be tricked or surprised by some Death Eaters. I thank whatever Being there is for Dean since he got me out of there intact, taking a few bruises along the way himself. And much later, when we'd gotten back to the safety of Phoenix Headquarters, I smiled and took one of his really large hands and squeezed it and thanked him. Then got myself off to bed before I fell over where I was standing.

That kind of thing drew us closer, drew all of my best mates closer into a...recognizable unit. Even Harry, who had so much to worry about and plan and just ponder, was drawn inevitably. And I kept thinking that Friends are really good things to have, I say. There's really no accolade high enough for someone who'll come back into battle to make sure you hadn't moved on to the next world yet. So the battles were exhilarating and terrifying and ultimately rewarding since we all knew we were doing something to fight for our side but...We started losing each other.

A recruit from Shanghai, a pretty girl who's name translated into something like 'Frozen Flower' only nineteen years old and fresh out of school, died a month in. She'd been hit around the knees with a freezing spell - a spell that actually caused ice to form instantly around the legs, effectively trapping the person - and had been found by a Death Eater before anyone could help. Her death had been water in the face...because she was young, and quiet, and most importantly was the only daughter of a working family back home who would ache for her.

The sight of Professor McGonagoll's shaking hands as she penned the letter to the mother and father, the black ribbons her room-mate wore in her hair the weeks immediately after, Charlie's face upon returning from delivering the letter...all of it served as a reminder. A sort of sign that said 'Hey. Look. War is not fun and games. We're fighting for our lives.' Even I who hadn't known too much about the quiet girl was taken aback by the suddenness. I was scared and disturbed - life could be extinguished so bloody easily.

It taught the rest of us to walk carefully.

Now missions and battles weren't all fun and games. They weren't looked at as fun or exhilarating, so much, and we all looked out for each other even now. The adults didn't know it but we met individually in our groups and came up with recon-style battling, improvising and improving upon what we saw the adults do as to make sure no one was ever caught out the way that girl had been. Frozen, helpless, no way to escape inevitable death. But the reality of war-time is that no side goes unscathed. And so, of the hundred and fifty young recruits from all over the world, we lost a few. Some deaths were of those I didn't know personally or had never talked to, but some? Some were of people too close to home.

Hannah Nott's brother Alfie, who was a male slightly-less dramatic version of his little sister, was killed in the middle of battle. Kingsbolt's niece by marriage was struck down in a recon-mission by a stray death curse, and a French boy named Gaspard Didier was caught unawares a month later in a similar mission. And then the Creevey brothers. Colin had somehow been captured in battle. Headquarters had been in an uproar over it. Not just the adults who were terrified of what could have happened to him since the Death Eaters has said nothing but the DA too. Harry had been distraught that day, Dean silently tense and Ron openly angry. Ginny, Hermione and I had been at wit's end trying to keep the boys from going out to do their own recon for the little Gryffindor who's quirk for photography had sort of wormed its way into our hearts.

He'd been missing a week when news had come back to base. The worst had happened. Colin had died horrifically during torture, needless torture since he hadn't known anything about the Phoenix's leaders plans. Like some sort of sick joke, the Eaters had taken photos as they burned him. Neville and Dennis Creevey had found the pictures and the urn of his ashes. That one death had destroyed any morale, any cheer, anything good that we'd felt we'd accomplished all those months. Later that night, sitting quietly in a chair in his room, I watched a curled-up Neville on his bed.

"Never seen it," he kept muttering, eyes closed, turned towards the wall. "Never seen anything like it in all my life."

Dennis went on his suicide mission less than seven days later, killing twelve Death Eaters before he was overcome and killed in turn. We didn't get anything left of him.

It had been the oldest set of Death Eaters, those left from the last War, that had led it. And later on, we'd found out that event had caused strife. I suppose even Voldemort followed rules of War, or else took badly to insubordination, because the bodies of the Eaters that had survived Dennis misled attack were left at the next bomb site. Twisted retribution for a dangerous misdeed. Black justice. Nothing in this War was ever as straight-forward as it could have been.

Harry spiraled into depression after that. He locked himself up in his room. Didn't eat. Didn't drink. Wouldn't see anyone. Same way that Hannah Abbot had...as if all that time alone in grief made them into machine-killers all on its own. Our group was sad. Weary. And I was horrified. I couldn't figure out how anyone could condone burning another human alive, much less watching. Watching? Bloody hell, watching so that they can take photos? I just...even now, I can't even describe the way it felt to see how broken up we were...the night I spent crying in my bed with Ginny, the way Mr. and Mrs. Creevey had crumpled on the doorstep of Headquarters. It felt like I spent that week crying, reminders of them everywhere, the cameras, the photos. It really hit everyone hard. A few recruits went home after that. The realities of War were too much, too much to be borne.

Dean was the one thing that I came to realize was dependable. Even if he wasn't as cheerful as he used to be, he was a constant. Even if most of our conversations circled around the unfamiliarity of war, we still talked. He was comfortable, constant, unchanging...and I came to really value him as a best mate in addition to Neville.

"I'd better always watch out for you," he'd say with a teasing half-smile. "Don't need to find you crouching against a tree again, do I?"

Always watching out for me, always looking out for me. Merlin only knew what other creatures were watching out during those days. So maybe I grew to rely on him a little bit more than the others, look for him a little earlier than everyone else. He'd accepted me before any of the others, and I think I noticed it subconsciously. Dean was a good guy, a genuinely great guy - and I think I noticed that too. But he was just Dean, always Dean. And when I look back on it now, I think that I had wanted to keep it that way.

For as long as possible.

"You sure you can't make it?" Ginny's voice came through loud and clear over the phone I held to my ear.

Saturday morning and I was where I always was - headquarters for _The Quibbler. _Today was crunch-day since publication should be done tomorrow. Therefore, all forty of our staff-members were in the office, in the print room, running in and out of Daddy's office to make sure all the stories were done. Since I was to be taking over the editorial in a few years, I'd began coming in regularly to get aquainted with everyone and get used to how things run. And, of course, create ideas on how I'd run it. So far, so good.

"Oh, yes," I answered, my eyes following my assistant Eric as he leaned over the old-fashioned ink printers to check the layout for one of the back pages. "You know I won't be able to get hold of the letter until I get home anyway. Where are you supposed to be meeting everyone anyway?"

"Florean's."

"And you have your letter already?"

There was silence for a little while, and a world of feeling in that silence.

"Yes."

"Well." At the moment, there wasn't much more that I could say. When word had first gotten out about this 'soulmate' thing, it had been quiet and subtle. It hadn't been spoken to those who would leak it to the world, and a handful of departments in the Ministry were privy to the knowlege. Bill Weasley's was one of them. The first response was shock, a sort of "Are you joking?" before . The reasons were good reasons but not for interference in something so personal...but it was right after the War, and much of the magical world was focusing on rebuilding for peace.

I guess peace includes this sort of thing.

Regardless, it would be fine for people like me who had no signficant other. No love of their life. No romantic emotional attachment _not_ marriage to anyone else. But for people like Ginny, young men and women like her? The Ministry was setting out to potentially ruin strong relationships. The argument was that the method was basically a sure-go way. If you were meant to be with person you are with right now, if you two had a strong enough relationship, then you would be each other's one. With an argument like that, Ginny and Harry should be safe.

_Still..._still. The doubt was there. And every single one of their friends knew it.

"Well," I repeated. "I can't offer you anything comforting 'cept this: we all know you and Harry are meant to be together. Heavens, the _world_ knows it too. The whole 'strength of relationships' thing means you two are certainly fated to be betrothed."

"Yeah?"

"Yes," I said firmly. "Yes, I believe that. We _all_ do. So you go to Florean's with the rest of them, open that letter, and let me know the good news as soon as possible, alright?"

"Deal." Gin sounded happier, more confident, and much more like herself. _As it should be,_ I thought to myself. "Oh and if you can get ahold of Neville, that would be lovely. Left a message yesterday to let him know Dean will have his letter."

"Double deal," I responded. She laughed - one of our little jokes. "I'll call you later then."

"Cheers."

I flipped the phone shut and pushed myself off the wall to get into the fray of things. As I worked, I thought. I should have felt more of an impact with this kind of change heading for me. I am often called 'unruffled' but this should have had me feeling...somehow. And I wasn't. For a minute, I let myself dwell on it - _was I not taking this seriously enough? Should I be worried about whoever it was I was supposed to be ordered to tie myself down to?_ I just wasn't bothered. And couldn't be.

And so, whoever he was, I guessed I would make it work. After all, I didn't really believe in love but if we were good enough together, I'd be content. And peaceful. And that was really all I could ask for.

_In a way, I'm just like the rest, _I thought, _content to rebuild for peace._

Soon work got so busy that I couldn't afford to spend time thinking about change, much less the letter waiting for me back at home. I was swallowed up in the hustle and bustle of my small workplace. When colored ink ran out for one of the print-presses, I had to apparate down to the city to get a whole new box of it. And while I was gone, two staff writers discovered that a story wasn't in from one of our freelance writers so we'd have to run some more adds to fill in the page space. Our Head Layout Editor was out with a case of the laughing cold, and her assistant was having trouble filling in the position. Saturday from morning till afternoon was filled with problem after problem arose and I was in and out off the press room, talking to Daddy, easing arguments between the Chief Editor and her lackey.

It wasn't until nearly four thirty in the afternoon that I had an inch of breathing space, and I took myself off to Daddy's office to sit for a minute.

"You're doing very well," Daddy said with a slight smile over the rim of his coffee mug. I smiled back and reached for the other mug of coffee. Four creams, two sugars went in. I loved sweet coffee.

"Still so much to do, though." I took a sip. "I keep forgetting to ask you - any word from the write-in on those Keffler Bugs in North Hampton?"

"Article came in yesterday," he said. "Three pages and I need you to get it down to one and a half."

"Pre-deadline?"

"Midnight. Karen will look over it herself." Karen was the Chief Editor. I didn't want to deal with any more fights between herself and her assistant but it was looking like I was in for that anyway.

"Eventually we're going to have to move Cherise to a different appartment." I took another sip of my sweet coffee. "The two of them haven't been working well from day one, and that disagreement over the Spotted Horned Toads sighting in Kensington has made things worse."

Daddy looked at me in that considering way that told me that I'd just done something correctly in the business. I smiled, he caught it, and smiled back.

"Lune, I know that you should be getting home soon."

Quick switch of topics. I didn't have to ask why. Daddy and I understood each other without speech most of the time. It was a good thing.

"I will," I responded. "But will you be staying until tomorrow morning for the print?"

He nodded. This, after all, was the first time _The Quibbler _was back in publication after the War. It was an important edition. I sighed and took another sip of the coffee.

"I'll be home in an hour tops, Daddy. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Daddy put down his mug and started rifling through papers on her his desk. He pulled a stack of papers and held them out to me. I smiled slowly. Break time was as good as over with head honcho ordering me back to the press-room. "Take these to Karen for me?"

I drained the rest of the cup, placed it on the table, and took the sheaf of papers.

"Yes, sir."

Took the papers, went out on my way, encountered more problems in the hour I had left. By the time I left work, the sky was dark and I was standing in front of the small building that housed everything needed to run _Quibbler_ comfortably. I remained still for a minute and tilted my head backwards to look at the sky. A slight breeze lifted my hair, had some of it floating in front of me. I stared through the gold to the sparkle-studded darkness above.

_Stars_, I thought to myself. _Pretty stars out tonight._

I'd always loved the night - probably always will. I closed my eyes and shook the hair away from my face. It was a pretty night. A very pretty night. And no matter what happened later when I got home, it'd still be that way. That was always good to know.

"It's Gin. I've been trying to reach you for the last two hours!"

The anxiety in her voice immediately put me on edge.

"What is it? What's happened?"

"Hermione fainted at Florean's and we're at St. Mungoes." I breathed deeply. That could mean any number of things but since I'd known what they'd been meeting up for..."Knocked her head hard on the edge of the table and there was blood."

Her betrothed then. Reaction to her betrothed.

"I'll be there right away," I said, "and I'll call you when I get there, alright."

I didn't bother heading back into the building to let my father know, but isntead immediately apparated to my favorite magical place in London. Diagon Alley wasn't very far from the hospital but I'd still have to take a cab to get there. So much time wasted, but as long as Hermione was alright...As soon as I'd hailed a cab, which I was getting much better and better at thanks to Harry, I flipped out the cellphone to let him know what was going.

"Daddy, I'm on my way to St. Mungoes."

"What has happened?" he asked, concern evident.

"Hermione took hard knock to the head during a fainting fit so I'm going to go see what's happening," I said. "I have no idea what happened.

"Alright, poppet, call me when you get there."

"I will."

When I finally arrived in the massive lobby for the hospital, I had to take a minute to orient myself. No use asking for her at the desk, best to call Gin again and have her come get me. I was just reaching for what seemed the upteemth time in the day for my phone when a deep familiar voice sounded behind me.

"Luna?"

I turned to see Dean walking towards me. So tall and quite confident - the crowd simply moved out of the way of their own will. A little part of me laughed at the speed one short wizard used to sidestep Dean. Funny thing though - his size didn't mean he was mean. In fact, Dean was pretty much the gentle giant most of the time. Or rather, the laughing giant. He was always cheerful, always willing to help, very kind but a cutting sense of humor. I hadn't seen him in over twenty-four hours - a record for us since we'd made it a habit into seeing each other very regularly. I hadn't even had a chance to call him all day either though I'd thought about it after the call with Ginny. I supposed that's what work will do to you. So I was really happy to see him. Although I'm almost always happy to see him. I supposed seeing friends will do that to you. He looked as happy to see me as I felt to see him. I smiled briefly when he pulled me into a hug but then pulled back when I was released.

"Do you know the room number?" I asked without preamble.

He nodded.

"Let's go then."

* * *

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_"I always fall for the wrong ones, don't I?"- Dean carelessly to Seamus second Year, watching Lavender Brown stroll by on the arm of yet another boy._

It's not so much that I don't believe in love. Believe me, I believe in love. But I've never loved and been loved in return. I guess I just don't have what it takes for that instant attraction to happen - I might be tall, dark, and pretty attractive, but I'm not mysterious. I am what you might call the 'nice' guy. And you know what they say about nice guys?

That we usually finish last.

You would think that girls would be motivated romantically to look past the nice-guy exterior but that's just not the case. And the ironic truth? That at the core of what makes me Dean Thomas is geniality. I am a simple guy, and at the end of the day, I would rather be kind and humurous than sharp and cruel. I am more inclined to be sunny than to be moody - Merlin knows that I don't have a brooding bone in my body. Not much has ever angered me past the point of no return, but the few times that I was well and truly upset, it tapered off slowly. Anger is a rather heady thing- I don't like it when it appears and I certainly don't much like myself when I'm furious. It's an unfamiliar part of me.

It's not nice.

I guess that's why I take such stock in the knowledge that I'm a good guy, that everyone knows and understands and pegs me as the good guy. That's the Dean Thomas that I'm familiar with. That's the Dean Thomas who I'm most comfortable being. Perhaps there's a part of me that longs for something not so stable...perhaps that's the part of me that drew me to Lavender Brown. Lavender Brown, one of the prettiest girls in my Year. She had lovely brown hair and lively eyes and every time I caught a glimpse of her my First Year, she was laughing or entertaining friends. She was a bit snooty, and not a little bit selfish, but I couldn't bring myself to mark those down at faults. And that's when I understood that I liked her.

Things that should have been flaws, should have turned me away from or off of her, did not. I thought of her as a bit spirited, perhaps flighty, always willing to have her way, but not a bad sort. Looking back at those first few years, not a bad sort at all.

I don't know too much about love. But I do believe that love is something that grows with time. I think that you can fall in love with most anybody, and I think often than not, it's those around you that you fall in love with. At least it had been for me.

These days, I don't give love a great deal of thought. I've been trying not to miss my oldest friend, been visiting his family to make sure they are okay. I've been concentrating on doing the best I can to get my license, which would mean more money to support the Finnegans and my grandparetns, mother, brothers and sisters with. Not that money has ever really been a worry in my household - when Dad died six years ago, he'd made enough provisions in life to save us from undue expenses in death. That said a lot about the kind of man my father was - careful, protective, always looking to take care of everything. And I missed him more now than I did before - I missed him every day. Money wasn't a problem though, especially since Nai's band had skyrocketed in fame and money was not tight. But I want them to live more than comfortably, want to be able to give my mother even more breathing room and be able to put aside some to build us a nice family fortune base. For my oldest friend's family, I want to take care of them. I want to ease a little bit of Mr. Finnegan's worries about his farm, make Mrs. Finnegan smile more often. I suppose you can say I want a lot and I am determined to accomplish it.

Family is family, above all else. And there's absolutely nothing I wouldn't do to protect and take care of me and mine.

That's another kind of all-consuming love, isn't it? But I love hard, that's for sure. When I love, I love hard. No surprise it had taken me so long to fall out of love with Lavender Brown those years ago. Perhaps thats why it took me so long to figure out the potential of what was given to me. When it finally happened, I was so blind to the possibility that I just didn't see it. Or perhaps, I refused to see it.

Perhaps.

"So what's the plan today?"

My younger sister Adrienne was sprawled comfortably on the rugs in front of the fireplace, her chin resting on her arms as she stared at me. Quiet and almost painfully shy, Adi is one of my very most favorite people in the world. She was a Third-Year Hufflepuff beginning in the Fall, and I couldn't have been more proud of her if I tried. My older sister Naira and I often joked that she would have made a fine scholar in her past life, but truth be told, Adrienne Thomas was so smart that sometimes I was surprised by the fact that she was thirteen and not thirty-five.

"Good question." I pondered as I reached for two slices of buttered toast on the coffee table. God bless the house I grew up in - the place would always mean comfort for me. "Anything you want to do, Adi. But remember that the twins are coming along this time."

"Go to the park?"

Cornelius Park? I thought about it and decided it mightn't be a bad idea. Better that than somewhere else where the six year-old twins Sophie and Sammie might get into some trouble. Again. Good thing I had a built-in radar that sounded when they were about to wander into a danger zone. I smiled at my little sister and finished off the toast.

"Sounds good."

"Dean?" My mother's voice called. Sounded like she was somewhere nearabouts the kitchen. I uncurled myself from the couch with a slight groan, smiled at Adi again, and set about to find my mother. I loved this house though it was not where I lived any longer. This place would always be home to me, with its long corriders and sprawling rooms. _Home_, I always thought when I got here to visit my family for the weekends. _This place is still home._

"Mum?"

"In the kitchen!"

Ah, my favorite place. She need not have said any more - I was there in three or four strides at most. Poked my head in to see her sitting down in the chair next to the large glass-windows. My mother, Carrie Thomas, was one of the strongest women I'd ever known. When I was little I followed her around whenever Dad wasn't home (Naira claims that my love of all things food stems from this since 'mum' used to equal 'grub' to me. I think she's wrong, though.) and my mother would tell me all sorts of stories. Funny stories about what it was like for her growing up, sad stories about Grandpa's first heart attack and what it was like for her to almost lose him, happy stories about how she met my father. And I absorbed all the stories like a sponge, so much so that when harder sadder times came, it was me telling the stories to my younger siblings.

She worked for an all-witches health magazine and doubled as one of the emerging voices lobbying for an integration of technology and magic. She was popular writer and loved her job. I think people were always quite surprised to meet her. Tall, confident, but rather young. She'd married almost right out of Hogwarts so she was younger than many parents but life had given her the sense of age and wisdome that people who _haven't_ had personal loss never gain.

"Shouldn't you be getting the letter today?" No preamble - just cutting into my thoughts. That was Mama.

I shrugged and walked over to fold her in my arms. Warm, direct, clear - _that_ was my Mama.

Truthfully, I'd given the letter a great deal of thought and decided that in the end, it didn't matter very much I was tied to. It bothered me that the liberty of choosing had been taken out of my hand. It bothered me that it felt like forcing love. But I had no one important to me in that way at the moment. So, it wasn't like they were destroying anything, per se. I just hoped that whoever she was, I could stand her. I didn't want to be tied down to someone who would make me unhappy. It's just that I would do my best to make this thing work, as much as it would be able to, and even if love didn't grow out of it, happiness would.

"I'll get it when I get it," I said with a smile, looking down at her. "It's not more important than coming to see you all on weekends."

"Sometimes I wonder how you got to be so good," she said, patting my face.

"You, of course," I teased her. "You and Dad, of course."

She laughed and then wormed her way out of my arms to get a letter on the hardwood kitchen table. It definitely did not escape my notice that there was a platter of assorted fruit on the table.

"Letter from Grandpa and Grandma Blake?"

She nodded. "If you're free next weekend for sure, we'll go up to see them."

"Gives me time to get that new book on spell-casting that Gramps wanted," I said and took the letter, still eyeing the fruit platter. Could I get to the fruit before we went out to the park?

"Question...where are Sophia and Samuel?"

Good question. The house was a little bit too quiet - which almost always meant that the twins were solemnly up to no good. I grimaced then kissed my mother's cheek.

"I'm on it!"

I left the kitchen and headed up the stairs to the big playroom that Nai and I had decorated a few years ago for the younger kids. Surprisingly enough, Sophie and Sammie were being _good_ and playing nicely with their toys instead of ripping holes through the walls or something just as mischievious. When I pushed the heavy door open I found Sophie in the corner puzzling through the words of a book and Sammie playing with a massive blue carriage toy, and a miniature magic carpet. I didn't like the carpet since Sammie would definitely get on it and fall from some distance but maybe the pain would get him to stop doing that? For a minute, I just stood in the doorway and looked at the two of them. Sammie was strong for his age, surprisingly so, and a bit of a smart-alec at that. I swear, one day his quick responses were going to get him into trouble. He didn't look like me at all (I took after my mother almost entirely) but instead was a mini-version of our Dad. Looking at him was like looking at the photographs of Dad when he was younger. Same smile, same stance. Our mother often said he was like Dad's parting gift since Dad died four months after the twins were born. Sophie was a pretty little thing who looked a lot like Nai and Adi, except she was really girly with those red ribbons in her pigtails and turquoise studs in her ears. She'd been determined to convince Mama to get her jewelry since she learned to talk, and she'd been winning the war for almost two months.

"You two look surprisingly innocent," I spoke up finally. "Imagine that."

The two looked up, dropped the toys and ran. I came all the way in and got down on my knees so I could catch them when they barrelled into me at the same time. And barel they did.

"Dean!"

I hugged them close before releasing them so I could rock back on my heels and sit on the floor. Immediately, they clambered into my lap.

"Where are we going today?" asked Sammie.

"The park, I think," I said, looking down at him. "And if you can take care of watching your toys, you can each bring one."

"Okay," Sophie said. Almost absently she reached up to rub one of my ears. Kids and their habits - I'm sure Adi used to do the same thing to Nai all the time when she was little. Matter of fact, I probably did it to Nai too. "But I want an apple," said Sophie.

"Are we leaving now?" asked Sammie.

I'd have my hands full with these two all day.

"We'll get an apple before we go," I said with a smile. That fruit bowl was looking more and more likely all the time. Sophie was a girl after my own heart, I swear it. "Soon as Mama says yes, we can go."

Sammie clambered out of my lap before apparently thinking better of it and clambering back in. He lifted a little arm, stretched out his fingers, and _wham_ the carriage came up off the carpet and hurtled through the air towards us. I couldn't help my raised eyebrows as I watched. _Already getting so good at it?_ I thought, slightly awed by the way the thing jerked in the air right before it hit us. What crazy control. I'm not sure I'd ever seen a child with so much control. I watched Sammie snatch the toy out of the air and then lean back to cuddle in my arms. I kissed the top of his head, then the top of Sophie's.

"Down to the kitchen then."

I stood with the two of them cradled comfortably in an arm each, wished the door closed behind me, and strode down the hallway.

"Adi," I called as I got past her bedroom, "are you ready to go? Mama's packed food and the rest of us are!"

Some garbled girl-scream that I took to be aquiescence sounded through the door.

"Maybe she's not ready yet," said Sophie with a wise shake of her head. I laughed.

"Perhaps. Let's get you that apple now, though."

"Okay."

Down to the kitchen we went, past our mother to the basket standing on the table. Since she had a deadline to make tonight and it was already past noon, the four of us would be going by ourselves. Then we should be back in time to receive Naira, who was coming back for a week from tour with her all-girl's rock band _The Noisettes_. Naira was the eldest Thomas, and the person I was closest to in my family. We were only two and a half years apart, which means that where Adi and the twins had always clearly been the ones I protected, Nai and I had been inseperable growing up. Almost on the same level, I think. And God, knows I missed her when she was gone and loved it when she was back. Nai had left Hogwarts early to pursue a career in music. Dad hadn't agreed with her choice but he'd supported her when she'd set her mind to it. Mama had embraced it whole heartedly (the two of them have a feminist thing going) and it hadn't been long before she'd found three other girls who loved music the same way she did. The band was supposed to coming along too, which was good, since Holly, Meredith and Brooke were like family anyway.

"I'm ready!" said Adi when she appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Shall we?"

In next to no time (okay, no, twenty minutes later), the four of us were out and about in Cornelius Park. It was a pretty nice day for summer - not bright but certainly not as overcast as it could be. The twins were running ahead of us, and surprise surprise, we were holding their toys. I'd told them not to get too far ahead and hoped that they would listen. It was already almost three o'clock, after all, and they were bound to get tired soon. We'd been gamboling about for nearly two hours. It was a good thing Sophie and Sammie were distracted ahead of us since there was a look on Adrienne's face that said she had something she wanted to say.

"What's up, baby Adi?" I asked, using the nickname I'd used on her when she was much younger.

"Don't call me that," she protested. She made a face at me and ducked out from the hand that was heading to pat her head. "And don't do that either, Dean."

I laughed and settled for brushing back her hair as we walked.

"But really, what's on your mind, little sis?"

"Just thinking about school this year." She swung her arms and looked around the dark green grass, and the tall leafy trees as we walked. I did the same, sensing that this wasn't something I could prod out of her. Better to let her talk, I think. "Just thinking about how different Third year will be."

"It will be different," I said. "It was fun for me."

A fleeting sense of loss hit me as I thought about the person who had been so integral to all my years at Hogwarts. _Seamus._ I swallowed the loss and continued.

"I think you'll like all the new classes that you get to take. And with that extra-curricular writing course you signed up for with Professer Macabre?" I waggled my eyebrows at her to get a laugh. It worked. "You won't even want to come home."

"You won't be there," she said softly.

"I know." I chucked her under the chin. "But you know what else I know? That you are stronger than you think. "

Adi looked so comically dubious that I had to laugh a little bit.

"It's not just because I'm your brother. You are, even if I can't convince you of that. All I can say is that you'll see just how true that is this year."

The dubious look passed. Adi now looked pensive. A small part of me wanted to wrap her up in a bubble so she'd protected from the rest of the world but that's not so. She'd always hung close to Nai and me - too shy to make any friends in school. But she had to learn, to experience. There was nothing I could do but stand by her if she needed it.

"You think so?"

I nodded and smoothed her wild hair back again. "I know it."

She smiled, reassured. I breathed a little bit easier. She was happy for now, at least for a little while. And we had all of summer ahead of us before anything happened. _Good thi-_ The loud ringing of my cellphone cut off any train of thought. I reached into my trouser pockets and snagged it.

"Hello?" Ron's familiar voice came through the phone.

"Hey mate, what's up?"

"Almost at Florean's," he responded. I could hear the hum of busy streets like white noise in the background. "I take it you haven't even been back to the apartment yet?"

The apartment the four of us shared - Harry, Neville, Ron and me.

"Nope," I said. "Nai's coming home today, remember?"

He made a sound of assent and I chuckled.

"I suppose we'll get to see who it is tomorrow for you then."

"Who are you thinking of for yourself?"

A pause, like Ronald Bilius Weasley was really thinking about it.

"Merlin knows I haven't the faintest."

That was God's truth for all of us.

"And Harry?" I didn't really have to specify the question. We just hoped everything came together and he was meant to be with Ginny. Because it would kill them both to be with any others.

"Alright," he said, in a way that made me think that the bloke in question was in the near vicinity. I sighed

"I'll be back late, I think."

"Cool. Send your family hugs and tell the twins I'll have presents for them next time." I smiled. Ron was turning into a favorite Uncle with the entire family. I suppose it's something the two of us share, coming from relatively big families. "Oh, and Harry and I'll still be up, bro. We want to see you open that thing."

I rolled my eyes then remembered he couldn't see me.

"Alright, alright. I'll tell everyone you said hello."

Clicked off to find Adi watching me with a smile on her face.

"What?"

"Ron?"

The girl was clairvoyant. Maybe.

"Yeah," I replied, taking her arm to continue walking again, "and he says hello."

"Welcome home!"

Back at home in the evening and Naira and her band had _finally_ arrived. They'd taken that godawful bus to get here, and looked little rattled for it, but were intact and happy to be so. The four of them had stepped off the bus with their luggage floating next to them in front of our home (lucky us, that the bus stopped here), all leather jackets and sunglasses as if they'd need it during an English summer. Just gos to show you what fame will do to you, I suppose. The minute they were off the bus, Mama and Adi I surrounded them. There was a lot of laughter and crowing from Adi, and giggling from the twins as they swamped her legs. It was only after Sammie reached up to touch her belt that I noticed that Nai's hair was dyed pink. Don't ask me how it slipped by me. All I know is that when I noticed, I rolled my eyes - last time it'd been green...so I suppose bubblegum pink was an improvement. Mama took one look at Nai's hair, opened up her mouth to say something, thought better of it and let the thought go. Naira and I shared a look then began laughing at the same time.

"Dean, you really need to stop growing," she said, hugging me tight. She was tall just like our mother but after the growth spurt I'd experienced right before Final Year, no female ever came up past mid-chest for me. She was the closest.

"I've missed you too, Nai." I released her and spun her around. "Older sis's got a brand-new hairdo. Had to find a way to make things interesting for yourself, eh?"

She punched me in the arm but grinned. "Always."

The visit doubled as a way to spend time with family and a way to get her letter. The rest of the band fell under the rule just the same way I did, and it had been easier to schedule in a break in the tour than to not go on tour at all when the news had leaked. In any case, I planned on spending the week at home as much as possible. _Or as much as possible with my own sorta-kinda coming change on the way..._I pushed the thought out of my mind and grinned at my sisters who were indulging in something every girly.

"Dean, you got taller?" This from the short dark-haired Brooke who was pulling her guitar straps as she spoke.

"I sure did, ma'am."

She shook her head and motioned me over. "Come over here and greet the rest of us properly!"

I did but deliberately walked slowly to irritate them. There was twenty-two year old Brooke of course, drummer and sometime-back up singer to Naira's man vocals. Even though she was short, she was as larger-than-life, perhaps the loud abrasive _I don't care_ girl of the group. Meredith Hunter was only slightly taller than Brooke even though she was a year younger, with pale skin that complimented her strawberry blonde hair, and a soft cultured voice that had you startled that she wasn't from one of the old wealthy Pureblood families. She was the lyric-writer of the group, and helped orchestrate and compose almost all of the melodies, with input from everyone else of course. Holly was stout and friendly, solid, and good-natured with a voice like an angel and a gift for the guitar. How Naira had managed to find such talented girls in the short time since she'd left school, I don't know. But I _did_ know that _The Noisettes_ were on their way up in the magical world.

I went through them all, giving everyone a hug and/or a high-five before the twins came in and distracted the rest of the band. Only then did I lean back to catch my mother's eyes and motion us inside the house. Soon we were seated at the dinner table, saying grace, and digging in to the feast Mama had prepared while we were gone. If there was one thing that was instilled in me at home, it was always family gathered at the dinner table. Always. Even if we'd been doing our own thing all day, we all had to get together and eat together for meals. It was one thing that had never changed.

"What are we going to do all week?" asked Adi eagerly, looking at Brooke and Holly. Those two had lost most of their family in the War, and what was left, they weren't close to. They would be staying here with us in the meantime. Which meant their letters would probably also find their ways here too. "If you could take me to another concert, that would be neat!"

"There aren't any concerts that I know of going on," said Brooke shaking her long hair out as she looked around the table to Melanie. "Heard of any?"

Meredith shook her head too and looked at Adi.

"We'll find out and take you if there are, chickee."

Adi looked dissapointed for a minute before she got into her food. A look passed over her head from Merry to Brooke. _Aha, _I thought to myself. There _was_ a concert in town, and Adrienne Thomas was definitely going to see that concert...even if she didn't know it yet. Trust the two of them to turn it into a surprise outing for her. Talk turned into discussion of the tour, and how the band was holding up for it. This week would double as a break and a reason to be in England during this big time of change. After all, the Ministry's clause said any one age 16 and upwards that was a citizen of the state. That meant that Naira and her bandmaes needed to be here to get their letters and they had a week to figure out what to do about it before the tour resumed in Bulgaria. A week seemed like an awfully short amount of time to me - to be with family and to sort out this new massive affair. I hadn't even gotten a chance to really wrap my head around it and I had most of the summer to make it work.

Bully for them though, for trying though.

Halfway through the meal, my cellphone was ringing again. I excused myself from the table and headed out to the atrium to take the call.

"Hey mate, it's me." Ron, again. "Hermione's in the hospital."

"What?" I stood, shocked.

"Fainted at Florean's but smashed her head into a table on the way down. She's been out cold for the last two hours and we're in the room with her."

I started for the closet door, reached in and grabbed my cloak one-handed all the while holding on to the cellphone. _Bloody hell_.

"Called Mr. and Mrs. Granger yet?"

"Dad's on his way to get them."

"I'll be there as soon as I can then," I said shortly.

"Good. Remember, room 1125, seventh floor in Wicca Wing."

With an abrupt click, I shut the phone off and headed back into the kitchen to give everyone the news.

"Will she be okay?" asked Adi, fearful and quiet. Her face said she was remembering the time not so long ago this year when someone in the hospital meant someone dying. Hard to shake the remnants of war. I knew I agreed.

"She'll be okay," I said with a smile that I didn't really mean. "I'm sure of it. I'll call you all when I get there, alright?"

With further reassurances, I made my exit and apparated immediately to the heart of busy night-time London: Diagon Alley. It would be a short cab ride from here as long as the driver stepped on the pedal. And by heaven, I made sure he did. Fifteen minutes later I was wondering whether to go up the left or right staircase of the massive building that was St. Mungoes. You could get let lost in this place if you had no idea where you were going. And you would get lost if you didn't get a competent receptionist or have a Healer and a map to get you to the correct ward. I stood in the lobby, ignoring the long line, and looked for a map. When I'd figured out the way, I turned and-

Luna. I'd know that golden hair anywhere.

"Luna?"

She turned, her hair spilling over shoulders like silk on the black of the cloak. Ah, Luna. If anyone had told me years ago that I would be friends with the infamous Loony Lovegood, I'd have laughed myself breathless and then laughed some more. But it had happened, and not only were we friends, but I was even closer to her than I was to Ron and Harry. Surprise, that. Before the War and because of Neville, we'd been pretty good aquaintances. I'd never thought of her as crazy, even though the rest of the student body had, and I'd certainly never shunner her. But it was during the War, in the middle of all that pain and fear and warfare, that we really became best mates. She'd been at my back and I at hers and Neville's so many times that it had been natural to confide in her so much. She'd been the one to keep me sane after Seamus's death. And it was over her kidnapping that I'd gone crazy...tearing down walls, maiming wizards - hell, I'm sure I would have willingly killed for her that night. Damned I would be if I had to bury another one of my friends. She'd understood a little bit of that dark part, and she and Neville had helped me more than anyone to pick up the pieces and stop the rage after he was gone. It would have been infinitely harder without them.

"Luna," I said happily, with a smile blooming on my face. She smiled back slowly, in that infinitely calm way of hers, and I nearly laughed. She'd always been a puzzle to me. I pulled her in for a hug as soon as I'd reached her, then let her go when the smile began to fade.

"Do you know the room number?"

I nodded.

"Let's go then.

I turned to lead her down the right hallway to the elevators that would take us up the eleventh floor. We'd have to find an aide when we got up there to locate the right wing but at least we were on the right track.

"How did deadline day go?" I asked her. _The Quibbler _was all set to publish their first grand edition since the end of the War tomorrow morning. She'd been busy all week just with those preparations, which explained why I hadn't seen her since Thursday afternoon's brunch at Lovegood Manor.

"Really good," she responded with that same slow smile. "Really good. Well, as good as it could."

"Eric didn't mess up at all?" I teased. "No layouts to fix? No ink print gone?"

Her eyes widened slightly. "How did you know?"

"I'm right?" I asked, slightly astonished. I'd been kidding.

"You are," she replied, "almost down to the tee. I had to run into Diagon Alley to get the ink and certainly had to fix the layouts. Eric was great today though."

I smiled at her as she talked, interrupted when appropriate with a question, teased when I could. When the elevator slid to a slow stop, we got disembarked and headed down the hallway. Automatically, I slowed down so that she could keep up. She was only the teensiest bit taller than Hermione which made her rather short. And she was light enough that I could pick her up and toss her if I so desired. Not that I'd ever do it...although it was interesting thought.

"Left or right?"

I tuned back in and decided left, definitely left. Two more long corridors and we were standing in front of Room 1125. For a minute, we stood there and looked at each other. Then Luna took an audibly deep breathe and pushed the door open. Hermione lay on the bed, chest falling in time with the beat of her breathing. Harry and Ron stood like guards at either side of the foot of the bed, while Ginny was sitting in a chair holding Mione's hand. They looked up all at the same time when we entered.

"How is she?" I asked as I strode the rest of the way into the room. Luna immediately went to the bed to hug Gin briefly before she sat down in the empty chair next to her.

The guys greeted me first, and I clapped Ginny on the shoulders, before I retreated to hear Harry softly answered the question.

"She's fine...blow to her head and shock." Harry shook his head and looked at the girl lying prone on the bed. "Quite frightening though - she hit her head so hard that there was blood."

"It was audible," added Ron worriedly. "Swear to God, there was so much blood. But then again, surface head wounds bleed like that anyway."

_Merlin only knew he who her betrothed was_...I was almost afraid to ask.

"And her letter?"

An exchange of looks. This couldn't be anything good.

"Draco Malfoy."

"What?" That was certainly not a name I'd been expecting. Nor was I happy to hear it. In fact, I was shocked and angry. Could the Ministry be any wronger about these matches than they'd been in the first place? I dropped my voice when Gin gave me a look. "Hell, I'd faint deadway too."

Ron snorted. Clearly, someone agreed with me. Harry looked pensive but remained quiet. Harry had changed quite a bit in the last few months - the volatile anger that had motivated him during school melting away into a...kind of...strange melancholy. In many ways, he was more adult than the rest of his - wiser than his years, older than his age - and I think that nearly dying in the Last Battle had cemented that change. this was no longer the old Harry Potter. Not at all. With Harry's moodiness slowly giving way to a mature thoughtfulness, that could mean anything from 'I agree' to 'I wouldn't say that'. And knowing Harry, he wouldn't say anything.

I stepped forward and took one of Hermione's free hands and squeezed. She looked asleep, her breathing even and deep, although there was a purple bruise alarmingly close to her temple on the right soide of her face. A hell of a shock to receive. Where I mereley disliked the bloke, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were like blood feud enemies - always opposing sides, forever bearing grudges, no bridge to be built over. I smoothed the blanket over her like she was like a kid to be coddled, then resumed my place among the guys.

"Where are the Grangers? I thought they'd be here when I arrived."

"Dad's on his way with them - should be here any minute." Ron looked around as if there would be some time-telling apparatus. "Soon, though."

"How much did he tell them?"

"Everything," said Harry. I was sure the Grangers wouldn't be pleased either - I'm told they'd met Lucius Malfoy once by accident and he had been civil but incredibly rude. "Everything. But they mostly just want 'Mione to be okay."

I nodded and we settled into chairs behind the girls while waiting for Hermione to wake up. If she would wake up today, anyway. Two hours and a short nap later, everyone was awakened by the sound of the Grangers coming in with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. All five of us left the room

"You two?"

Ron's face took on a thoughtful cast just like the one Harry had had on a minute ago. Before I could verbally congratulate him on the mature look, his face edged towards slight distaste.

"Padma Patil."

Vast improvement over the Draco Malfoy predicament although Ron didn't seem to be enthused or dissapointed either way.

"Huh," I finally said. "Huh. Why the look?"

He looked surprise. "What look?"

I stared at him for a minute. Sometimes, he was so startlingly self-aware. Other times..._Other times, he was not._

"Never mind." He stared back at me, but let the matter drop.

"You Harry?"

Finally, a smile broke out on Harry's face. Didn't have to ask. I reached out and clapped him on the shoulders.

"Congratulations, mate," I said in a cheerful whisper lest Gin turn that look on me again, "though we all knew it would turn out fine."

Well, things were working out just fine for one of us at the very least. Could I hope that it would work out 'just fine' for me too?

/-|-\

After Hermione's parents arrived with the rest of the Weasley's in tow, Hermione woke up. Extremely angry and in a lot of pain. But at least she was awake - it was enough to speak to her, touch her hand, and then leave her to her parents and her rest for the night. Outside the door, we split up. Usually Dean came over to the Lovegood Place a few times a week with Neville, so he picked tonight to do it. It wasn't all that late when we finally got home. Daddy wouldn't be back until the next day anyway, so I had the house all to myself. Truth be told, it had been a long stressful day and I was tired. But...

_The letter._

I was really happy for Ginny and Harry - the doubt had been there and the Ministry had banished it. But Mione's situation was an all-together different cup of tea. She was betrothed to an enemy, and an ex-Death Eater at that. Don't misunderstand - the hatred for much of the Dark Side still thrived in this day and age. It was bordering on half a year since the Last Battle but a lot had been lost in the wizarding world - culture, loved ones, a way of life. But peace was the main thing now. We, the people, wanted peace. If another war never broke out as long as we lived, people would be happy. And so with the Ministry's promise to cut down the work and I find the 'love of your life' for you, I suppose most of us had forgotten that they'd really meant what they said.

"A mixing of lines" they'd called it. A mixing of lines indeed.

As soon as I lowered the ground wards and unlocked the door, Dean made a beeline for the kitchen. I let out a small breath of laughter as I watched him disappear into the house, then laughed earnestly when he stopped to see why I'd been making that sound. Without having to say anything, he understood. And rolled his eyes. And left me to laugh as he sped ahead to the kitchen anyway.

My house wasn't very big as far as houses go but there were two distinct areas of the house. The ground floor was the visiting area and my father's area - the place where our large comfortably-looking living room was, the kitchen and two bathrooms, Daddy's office adjoining two rooms - Mum's old experiment room, and Dad's current one. He'd kept Mum's room just as she left out of sentimentality, so I could go in there and feel a bit of her when I was little. These days I go to the Sunroom which is upstairs in my domain - sunny yellow walls and all of her belongings are there. Now, I went in there when I was a little bit lonely and needed to be surrounded by her things, breathe in the familiar scent. Sometimes I went in early in the morning and fell asleep on the windowseat, or I'd go through the old photo albums. I loved that room very much. It was the connection to a mother I missed everyday, like an ache that never really went away.

"Luna?" I turned to hear his deep voice coming from the kitchen. Just as I noticed the sound of the dishes going and the sounds of pots and pans being banged around. "I feel like cooking. What do you want to have?"

So we'd fallen into this pattern months ago. I'm not ashamed to admit that I am a terrible cook. There are two dishes that I do really well - exceptionally well, actually, and I'm not sure why - but I only cooked on very special occasions. Beef casserole with stuffed red and green peppers, and sweetcorn dumplings. Otherwise, Daddy did it. To save us from imminent death and house fires, at any rate. Whenever Dean came over he managed to cook up so much that Daddy and I were usually set for at least a week. Small wonder my father loved Dean so much, wasn't it?

"Luna?" He was already growing impatient. I padded down the long corrider and turned right, into the kitchen. He was already going through cupboards and pulling out ingredients when he turned to me. Water was already boiling on the stove, and as I watched potatoes were peeling and cutting in the sink. An errant salt shaker did its thing above them, and a deep dish pan full of some creamy orange sauce was going in the oven. Sometimes I wondered how it is that he'd mastered starting a meal so fast. And then I remembered that he was probably born in the kitchen. I smiled at him before I caught sight of something more important. The stack of letters on the counter across from him.

"Make sure there's corn somewhere on the menu," I said absently as I moved forward and reached for the mail on the table. There it was - in official Ministry hand. Stamped, black ink. I didn't have any enemies that I wouldn't want to be connected with but I still felt a little thrill of something as I picked up the letter. I leaned against the counter with the letter in hand, and looked up at Dean who was busily working away at the rest of his preparations.

_Better now than never._

**To Miss Luna Lovegood,**

**As you may or may not know, as of today, the Ministry of Magic has begun owling out letters to witches and wizards of ages 16 through 29, stating their betrothed in an arranged marriage that we have deemed suitable. These matches are not random. In fact, we have devised a way of determining the perfect wife and husband for each of the single wizards under our Ministry, though the public is not privy to the particulars of the process.**

**The reason for arranged marriage is simple. We are matching wizards and witches with their soul mates, the ones that have the greatest potential of providing mutual happiness. A happy couple would logically lead happy lives. No evil, no new Voldemort. Just happiness. Though we don't fool ourselves into believing that all strife will be erased, everyone will be a lot happier if they are with the one they love, and the Ministry has eliminated the search.**

**The two betrothed will need to make a blood link, and this will be explained in detail if need be. They will have to spend time with each other, so that they get used to each other; the auras of the respective man and woman have to realign themselves with each other. They will need to be in each other's presence regularly, otherwise great fatigue will trouble both. Cheating poses dire consequences to the ****faithful**** one and there is no divorce.**

**The one we pick for you is your soul mate. We know this, without a doubt. But it's up to you two to make it happy marriage, though your personalities may clash.**

**Miss Luna Lovegood, you're betrothed is Mr. Dean Thomas.**

**Please be sure to get in touch with your betrothed as soon as possible and get all necessary paperwork owled to the Ministry of Magic in a punctual magic. You will receive more information pertaining only to the female half of things. More will be explained later.**

**From all here, we wish you good luck with your marriage. Have a magical day!**

**Signed, Ministry of Magic**

I think I gasped softly. I never gasp. I..._never _gasp. Nothing ever moves me to such extreme surprise that I involuntarily gasp. I couldn't even peel my eyes away from the paper for a minute. When I could, my eyes fastened on the back of the man across from me. He was humming now, whistling as he waved a hand and something or other flew out of the cupboard and into his waiting grasp. He hadn't caught on yet.

_Heavens..._

Dean? I stared at him while the emotions. Couldn't absorb it. Dean? Couldn't bring myself to believe it.

"Dean?"

"Eh?" he said over his shoulders. He turned around and dusted his hands on his dark jeans, smiling and whistling the whole time. I realized at that moment that I had no idea how he would respond. Had never seen him react to a situation like this. He must have caught a hint of something on my face because the smile faded into one of concern. I looked at him silently for a moment. Then with a hand that wasn't even shaking, strangely, I held the letter out to him.

"I think you'd better take a look at this."


	2. Together?

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes - I'm trying to get this out in a much more regular fashion than _Rainbow_. And so once a month at least, twice a month at most. More often than not I'll fall behind or suffer writer's block for a few weeks and be unable to write anything but I will not abandon the story. Dean's background is completely different than it is according to J.K. Rowling - forgive me my excessive use of creative license in a world where the Thomas family is almost the exact opposite of what Rowling has them be.**

* * *

Chapter 2 - Together?

_Life is like one giant Quidditch game. So better be careful or it'll throw you a fast one. - Ron's life philosophy explained to Luna._

* * *

I looked at her face when I understood what it was I was seeing. The Ministry. The letter. Us.

_Together?_

A billion things had sped through my mind as I read the letter. **The reason for arranged marriage is simple. **A billion inconsistent irrevocably unimportant things. **These matches are not random.** So many things that not one could be grasped completely. **In fact, we have devised a way of determining the perfect wife and husband for each of the single wizards under our Ministry, though the public is not privy to the particulars of the process.** And nothing stuck. **A happy couple would logically lead happy lives.** Even when I'd reached the end of the letter, I'd stared at the page blankly. **The one we pick for you is your soul mate. ****Miss Luna Lovegood, you're betrothed is Mr. Dean Thomas. **A minute was all it took for the billion things to devolve to a single thought: us? together?! When I could gather myself and remember to look up at the girl in front of me, she had collected herself. She seemed rather unruffled and calm, and I suppose to the untrained eye, Luna Lovegood would appear so but I knew her better. **We wish you good luck with your marriage.** There was surprise in the depths of her gaze, a tightness around her eyes that smoothed out into her usual look even as I watched. By the time I really looked at her, I thought I'd imagined the look. She was carefully the same. She did it so quickly that I couldn't even get to read what she was feeling. I continued to stand there gazing at her carefully - could she have been any more 'serene' at this moment? Could she have been any more unreadable? It was Luna at her most introverted.

_Together._

Maybe it was shock because I couldn't really think anything more complex than that. Really? Us? The two of us? Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas? Seriously? There had to be some sort of mistake. The Ministry was making a grand mistake with this. I loved her like a loved the rest of my friends. There was nothing sexual about it, nothing of that fast hard sort of wanting that I'd had for Lavender. There was none of that so what in God's name was the Ministry doing putting the two of us together? This is why this sort of impersonal master spell could backfire and hurt the ones it was intended to help. Because obviously they were wrong. Like, really _really _wrong. They couldn't see anything between us - there was _nothing_ between us. For God's sake, Luna was like...Ginny, who is firmly in my little sister category. Ginny is like an older Adi to me, and if Luna is like Gin, then Luna is also like a sister. And you do not fall in love with sisters. You do not date your sisters. You do not propose and get engaged to your sisters. And you sure as hell can't marry them. Not at all. I mean, not legally anyway. I looked down at the paper in my hands, then looked back up at Luna.

"Unexpected." I said the word in as neutral a tone as I could make it on short notice. I made my face as blank as possible, smoothing out the frown and toning down the intensity of my gaze. If she could handle this, so would I.

"Forget looking for my letter at home, then."

Luna did not smile. Nor could I really blame her. This was not a laughing situation. We stared at each other. There wasn't much to say that the Ministry hadn't ruined. _Fuck_, I thought to myself. _Fuck. Well, thank you, Ministry for making this awkward._

"Well," Luna finally said. "Well."

Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, but when she opened them there was something unsettled in them. Not as unruffled as she wanted to be. But less than I was. I had no idea what to do with myself now, as if my very presence in the house was really uncomfortable for the both of us. It sure as hell was for me. There was no way that dinner could be anything but stilted now. I would not open my mouth and ruin things before I got a chance to calm down. This sort of situation was not a 'There must be some kind of mistake!' or a 'You cannot be the one for me! You just can't!' type deal. But damned if I knew what to do at the moment.

_Oh, bloody hell._

"Maybe we should sit down?" She asked weakly as she pushed away from the counter and sat down neatly in the chair next to it. I sat down too and looked at the paper in my hands.

"Unexpected, indeed." Her voice sounded choked but when I looked up, she was as unreadable as ever. "The Ministry sure does like to keep us on our toes."

She finally offered a weak smile at her own pseudojoke. I offered her one back.

"It could be worse," I started. "We could be..."

"Hermione."

"Yes, enemies." We stared at each other. I think we were actually _trying_ to convince each other, not ourselves.

"We could."

"I-"

The ringing of the timer made us both jump. Usually it would have brought about a round of ribbing or at the very least, sheepish smiles, but it was too..._tense_ for that. What had started out as a fun evening with Luna had turned into something else entirely. My eyes widened. That was the problem here - it felt as if we were each waiting to figure out the reaction of the other. Well, I was angry. Quite angry. Because they were wrong. What she was? I had no idea. But I didn't know what I wanted her to be. Which means I had no right to be angry if I didn't want her to be angry. Hah. I smoothed the paper out, slowly, methodically. Put it on the table. Got up to take care of the potatoes over the stove, and check on my special spicy squash sauce simmering in the oven. Automatically, I reached for the parsley and the cayenne pepper to season the thawed chicken in the sink.

"It could be worse," I whispered to myself. "It could always be worse."

Nothing from behind me. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulders to see what she was doing. Better to just concentrate on finishing the meal. And maybe beating a hasty retreat after it was done. Right now, I wanted to marshall my feelings and leave the house. Damn but I couldn't have picked a worse night this week to come over.

_It would have been fine if we **hadn't** been together, _I thought angrily. _It would have been infinitely better to read this apart, to find this thing out apart. I can't even tell what she feels about it - so calm. And hear I am, ready to kick down the door of the Ministry and demand that they do the spell over. She's like a sister, for God's sake! _I shook the spices a little bit harder than I intended to - damn, now this was going to be a bit spicier than intended. I closed my eyes and placed my hands on the edges of the sink. The rest of the salting, the magic could handle. _To give up now or endure the evening? Not like I could really give up **now **as in immediately, since I was in the middle of cooking. Thank heavens for small favors, though...If Mr. Lovegood had been here...Oh, decisions, decisions._

Cooking was going to take another half-hour. A very long half-hour. I dreaded so much time spent in this awkward silence. Not very mature, but I was going to ignore the big problem and talk about other things. Big boy enough not to run away but not big boy enough to talk about it immediately, eh? Tomorrow was a different day. Then, we could talk.

Now, not so much.

"So,"I turned with a smile plastered on my face, "so, I'm planning on buying an edition first thing in the morning. What articles in particular should I be looking for?"

/-|-\

Dean had watched me most of the evening, as if I was a ticking bomb that could go off on him at any moment. Was I not being as purposely blank as possible? I've been told that I'm impossible to be read by more than a few people on many occasions so I didn't think the problem was with _me_. But it left me at a crossway all evening since I couldn't pinpoint exactly..._why_...he was doing that. I think he was looking for a way to gauge my feelings. And when he couldn't find one, he retreated back to comfortable conversation. I had to keep reminding myself to be blase because of it - Dean Thomas could read me far too well. And given a chance, he'd probably pick out some stupid nuance of expression that I hadn't realized I was making and mull it over. But his avoidance was equally as difficult. As if we could just smooth this thing over. The entire time I stared at him as he talked about something, I thought about what a mess this could turn out to be. I'd have rathered it be an enemy than a friend because I didn't think our friendship was something lovey-dovey romance could base itself off.

_This is ridiculous._

I am by nature rather direct. I've never seen the point in beating about the bush over something important. Beating the bush is likely to bring out all sorts of creatures that need to be brought out, anyway. Might as well thwack it violently and directly and get to the bottom of the matter...or animals. In any case, I needed this to be a direct deal. Something tangible that we discussed so I could figure out exactly what I was supposed to - do - from now on. Because I had to do something. And he had to do something. And we should...probably...do something. But we would never know what he and I were supposed to do if we didn't talk about it. Have a _tete-a-tete_ immediately. Come to some sort of consensus. An approaching of understanding. So I was going to sit down, stop him in the middle of talking about West Ham soccer and-

"Missed call from home," he said, in the same false cheerful mode he'd been in all evening. And believe me when I know his moods, I know his moods. That smile had 'faux' written all over it. I already knew what that meant. "I'm going to have to run a little bit earlier than planned. You're alright with that, aren't you?"

I didn't even have the chance to respond before he patted me on the arm (patted me? on the shoulders?) swept his cloak over his shoulders and strode out the door. I blinked. Once, twice, three times. _Really, Dean?_ So, he was just going to sidestep the problem and - and - _pat me on the shoulders_ and leave?! Were we already back to that? What, as betrothed I'd been denigrated to the status of aquaintance, not even deserving a hug? I blinked again, gripped the table, counted to one thousand and breathed out slowly. If he wanted to be immature that was his issue, but I wanted to be clear.

"Gin, it's Dean."

"Luna?"

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes, but it's you."

"No, no, it's _Dean_."

Maybe I wasn't getting that through correctly. Or maybe Ginerva Weasley was taking a long time to process.

"It's Dean?" A gasp. "It's Dean?!"

She'd gotten it. Good.

"It's Dean."

More silence. "Wait, does he know?!"

"I opened the letter before dinner."

She gasped, the repercussions hitting her immediately. Opening the letter before dinner, when we left together to _have _dinner..."Oh Merlin. Get the fireplace ready - I'm coming over."

I'd suspected this much would happen. And heaven knew that I could use some sort of input or support at the moment. _Since he's all set to ignore the problem..._I took a deep breath before it got to the point where I would need to count outloud. Then I turned on my heels to get to the living room to start the fire. A minute later, my redhead best friend was pulling herself out of the flames and unto the rugs of the living room floor. She shook out her long dark red curls before pinning me with blue eyes. _Oh dear. _That look said that she had a lot on her mind, a lot to say. Although I had no idea what she could have to say about this. I gazed at her warily, then held out a hand for her to take. She used that hand to spin me around and marched me to the kitchen to get the letter.

Which she read outloud. As if she didn't believe me to begin with. And needed documented proof.

"Gin, I told you-"

"Dean." She cut me off with a wondering look. A hand absently ran through her hair before she shook the letter in the air. "You and Dean. Give me an hour to absorb and I bet I can see it."

I stared at her.

"You two together, I mean."

I sighed.

"You can? Because I...am not even sure where to begin to see this." I sighed again and dropped into the seat. Again. "Because clearly he doesn't either. After the letter, he looked as shocked as I'd felt. But then-" I shrugged and swept my hands out in front of me. "Pointed avoidance. As in, it was as if the letter hadn't happened. He talked about how studying for his Exams were going, how Nai was back from tour, how happy was to be able to visit his family all the time, and Neville's letters from So, I don't see how this is going to work."

When I looked up, I was not surprised. Ginny was not really listening to me - nope, just watching me with a look gone speculating. The poor letter was getting crumpled in her hand.

"Actually, I can't see it either. But friendship to romance?" She grinned engagingly and plunked down next to me. "That is as timeless as love itself. _That_ can happen."

I arched my eyebrows. "But you know how I feel."

"Please," she slapped at my arm, "just because it hasn't happened yet, doesn't mean it won't happen at all. I think that's a stupid theory and I hope you don't enter this thing with that kind of...fatalistic...stupid...attitude."

It wasn't fatalistic. It was just the way I felt. I didn't suppose a romantic such as Gin, who's boyfriend went back for her in the middle of fighting when she was captured and professed his undying love for her on the battlefield, would understand. No, after such experiences I was going to be closer to Hermione in this thing than anyone else.

"Oi, oi! Daydreaming again?"

"Nothing of the sort," I murmured with a sigh. I picked up my wand and waved it, to set a pot of tea to boil on the stove. Nothing like tea - or gardening - when you're stressed. "You were saying?"

"That you should try a date."

...-that stopped me in my tracks. I stared at her for the second time that day, mid-wand motion. Really stared at her. For all I was worth. But she didn't squirm - which meant she really thought it was a fantastic idea and had no misgivings whatsoever. _A date as in meeting with romantic...er...intent?_ A date was for getting to know someone you liked, according to hearsay. But I already knew Dean, didn't I? He was closer to me in many ways than Gin and Hermione - he was always over here and we talked a lot and I knew he wanted to be a Healer for children. I could tell you the three foods that he would never touch with a ten-foot pole, his favorite spot in his house to take a nap, how he'd gotten the small dark scar above his knees. Didn't I know enough to know that this couldn't work?

"Luna? Luna?" I snapped out of it and looked at Gin, who was know looking faintly sympathetic. She slipped a hand into my own and squeezed gently. "I don't think it's as bad as all that. It is pretty terrible timing though - reallly, what are the odds of the two people being together when their letters are opened? Even if they're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

_The Ministry should have thought of that first._

Well, I wasn't going to stress about it overmuch. In fact, I was already filing it away for further mull-ification at a later date. Right now, I wanted to boot Ginny out of the house so I could go upstairs and change into my grubby gardening clothes, then leave the house and potter about my flowers for a few hours. Perhaps I may have dazed out for a few moments because when I checked back in, Ginny was no longer talking. Instead she was staring at me.

"Do _not_ tell me that you're thinking of doing what I _think _you're thinking of doing." ...really, she knew me far too well. I was beginning to think I was open book! She never waited for a response but went on exasperatedly. "Luna, who goes gardening at night?"

I smiled at her with no intention of denying it.

"Who doesn't? If you were patient enough to try gardening, I'd advise you to garden at night too."

I started to laugh as she stood to her feet disgruntled.

"You're going to be useless for talking until you get it out of your system." She rolled her eyes while pulling me to my own feet then out of the kitchen and down the hall.

"This time I didn't even have to ask you to leave," I murmured. I was still laughing a bit.

"You couldn't get me stay now, that's for sure." Right - once she'd figured me for a gardening girl, she'd made it a point to tell me never to invite her back there to work - just to look at the scenery. She reached for the Floo powder all on her own. Mid-toss she turned to me with that same faintly sympathetic look on her face. "Do think about what I said. One of you is going to have to try something. Wouldn't you rather it be you?"

I hugged her. "Thanks for coming, Gin."

She hugged me back. "Don't catch a cold - you always forget your cloak."

Sometimes, I think Gin didn't realize _just_ how much she was like her mother. I smiled.

"I won't and I will."

With a wave, Gin was into the fire. I waited until the fizzle and pop of the bursting timbers faded. Then I headed up to my room to change.

My garden was one of the best things about my home - it had been my mother's when she was alive but I'd played in it all the time when I was younger. It was off the left side of the house - a strip of grass between two gates, then the large space of exotic flowers from far-away places, and homey small species found here in England. It was really more of a wildlife garden than anything else - not orderly, sort of growing over and around and tumbling - Daddy called it a mini-jungle most days. I loved the garden because when Mother and Daddy hadn't been experimenting, they'd been in it with me. Though I couldn't cook to save a life, nor possessed an artistic bone in my body, I seemed to have a way with flowers. I suppose you could say I took to gardening like a fish takes to water...sort of, naturally, I suppose. Mother had been so exciting when she'd Once she was gone, the garden had naturally become mine. There was a time when I hadn't been able to enter, immediately after her death, because it felt too much like she should be there. But now it was mine - mine because it had been hers and mine because it was now my own special place.

I stepped out of the side door into the dim moonlight, barefoot so my toes could dig into the grass. Some people thought grass was scratchy but if the soil underneath it was good, grass was soft. Besides, I almost never wore shoes to garden. They were just cumbersome and bothersome - always in the way. I'd end up taking them off anyway. I walked the little ways to the second gate, the inner gate, which swung open into the space. Everything was as I'd left it - the blues and purples of my spring gentians, bluebelles and lady's slippers close to the gate were only just beginning to bloom, while my yellows and cheddar pinks far in the back were becoming shoots. My white lilies and black dearlets were acting like weeds - populating all across the garden, _not _contained to the right as they were supposed to be. _Ah well, at least they're growing. _Just last week I'd purchased seeds for the and already I could see the disturbances in the soil, the little hills that denoted life underneath. They were growing so nicely, the magic in the soil kept them perpetually flowering, but also spurred their growth like mad. By this time in a month, almost all the flowers in the garden would be much taller than me, and I'd have a rough time keeping the weeds out.

With my gloves underneath the dingy brown cloak- I'd have to remember to tell her that I had remembered to get something to keep me warm! - and a scarf on my head to keep my hair off my face, I walked a little ways in then dropped down to my knees next to my large violet-purple pasque flowers. These flowers gave off heat like they were their own personal lamps for the rest of the garden. I had never bothered to check if that was normal, and didn't really think it was...But if I remembered I would ask Hermione. I put on my gloves and spread the skirt of my old dress so that it would be a cushion to sit on the dirt. The flowers were looking alright for the most part but two or three of them were worse off. I lifted a single purple petal that was bent, a stalk was broken with the green-tinged creamy 'blood' still oozing.

_Could something have gotten in?_ I had made sure to leave paths all throughout the wildlife so I wouldn't step on them. This wasn't me. So maybe an animal? I touched the dirt, shifted the stalks and saw something white. My flowers were purple. _Something white?_

I leaned forward to see what it could be then abruptly leaned back. _Well then..._

A kitten.

An awfully small almost perfectly white kitten. Small didn't really do the thing justice - it looked like it could fit in the palm of my hand comfortably. Sleeping, I think, with such even rapid breaths, sleeping and huddled to the stalk of the pasque stems. How had it gotten in? The wards were never lifted on this side of the house

"I wonder where your mum is," I whispered as I looked down at it. Boy? Girl? Spell. I took out my wand and tapped the air above the sleeping creature...blue glow. Boy. "And you're so little to have gotten away from her."

Tonight was full of surprises, I suppose. It wasn't warm outside but the kitten had managed to find the one plant that would definitely keep him warm - I stared at the sleeping little thing for a little while before I reached out to disturb his sleep. Oh but his eyes were beautiful. Blinked and opened a mouth full of tiny sharp-looking teeth to yawn. He was...

Cute. Really, really cute.

Amber eyes met mine. And he yawned again. Then mewled. I stroked him between the ears and he made weird rumbling noise that could hardly be called purring. This creature got cuter and cuter by the moment.

"Looks like you're hungry." I took off the gloves and lay them down, then reached out and picked him up. "Oh, you're very warm!"

How could something so little be giving off so much heat? I marveled at him then cradled him inside the cloak. So much for gardening. Back into the kitchen to hunt for some milk and fish. I didn't think the spices would do anything - _if anything, kitty should get acclimated to Dean's cooking... _- so I pulled some of it out the pan, shrunk an old blue plate into a tea saucer and and another into a flatter bowl for the milk.

"Where _is _your mother?" I said aloud as I left the kitten to eat. Might as well clean up the rest of it before I forgot. Daddy would scold me if he came home to everything still on the table. I started clearing the dishes away, packaging most of it but leaving a plate on the stove for whenever Daddy got home. He would know to look there, if I left a note on the front door about it. Flicked a wand to get soap and water mixing in . Even after all these years I wasn't very good at domestic spells - either too much soap or too much water and I'd make a mess easily. I'd almost destroyed the kitchen by creating a mini flash-flood when I was thirteen. Safe to say my father was more than wary of letting me do too much in here since. I sighed again. Dean was rather neat and he usually started the dishes before he left since he knew I tended to forget but he'd been in such a rush tonight...

_It really would have been better had I opened it alone. _I sighed. _No use crying over spilt milk, as they say._

Uh-oh. The water in the sink was reaching dangerously high levels. I shut off the tap and decided to give up on magic. I was better at washing at hand. And it would give me something to do while the kitten ate. As I washed, I thought about what Gin had said about trying for a date. _A date?_ If we were so unwilling to talk about the situation over casual dinner that had become a habit between best mates, how would we handle the added expectation that comes with...dressing up....and going out...expressly to put one's best foot forward for a romantic interest? We didn't qualify as romantic interests! I sure did not see Dean as anything in that manner. He was lovely in the most dependable and comfortable way I could imagine - always there to cheer me up, always seeing me through, keeping all promises, helping me out whenever I needed it, talking about anything. He was one of my very favorite people, one of my very closest friends. But I had never imagined or looked at Dean in that way. And I couldn't start now just because the Ministry had decided to link our lives together irrevocably.

A date? It was a terrible idea in my mind. Making an already awkward situation infinitely worse.

No, I really didn't think a date a good idea. But Gin was usually right about things like this. I admit...I'm clueless. You know my take on love. And this wasn't even love we were talking about here. I mean, I guess I saw the harm in it. I definitely saw harm in it. And I suppose...if I really thought about it...I was uncomfortable with change. I didn't like this at all. I liked the linking of our lives together this way even less. Merlin, this could get ugly. But I couldn't do more harm than the Ministry had done already, could I?

There was soft mewling somewhere roundabouts my feet...of course, the kitten was done, and was now sitting on my left foot. Really, he was just so...cute. Stroking him behind the ears, I thought again about it. Turned the idea over in my mind as I crouched there on the floor. Could I reach out and ask him out first? Even here in the safety of being alone, I was looking at the idea in discomfort. I couldn't fathom it. How would I even craft the letter? What would make it less awkward? _Was_ there anyway I could make it less awkward? Or was Ginny wrong and this entire thing was doomed to fail from the start?

I wouldn't do any more harm than the Ministry had done...would I?

/-|-\

"So."

'So'...the word rather summed up the entire situation that I found myself in at the moment. A date with my best mate who I considered a sister. At a restaurant that Ron had suggested.

"So," I said again.

The silence was palpable. Well, Luna did look rather nice for this thing. Her bangs were swept to one side, the rest pulled up in to a tight neat bun. Her black cloak was on the shoulder of the chair, revealing a very form-fitting black tunic-looking top and rather tight jeans: something that said Ginerva Weasley _all_ over it. Scratch that - this entire setup had Gin's taint everywhere. That chit was always meddling in others affairs - she'd taken after Hermione and Molly in that respect. And her meddling had somehow led to this (yes, I doubted Luna's ability to come up with something like this on her own free will)...this was one of the very few times that I could say Luna Lovegood looked entirely uncomfortable. Is it wrong that I took a tiny bit of pleasure in that? After all, she was the one who had called us out here. Into disaster.

_Stop being so negative, mate._

I stomped on that strange burst of vindictive pleasure and retreated back into the good ol' boy role. The quicker we made it through dinner, the quicker we could get out of here.

"So, yes. Here we are." I winced even as I said it. "Ron suggested this place."

"Did he?" she answered politely, blue eyes taking it all in. "It's very nice."

I paused and searched for something else to say.

"I'm glad you like it."

And then another two minutes of silence. This was so awkward, it was killing me.

"Do you know how he happened to find it?"

I shook my head. "Not the faintest."

We looked at each other and turned away at the same time.

"You look very nice." Which she did. "Fits in with the place." Which it didn't.

Granted, she did look nice. but I knew her personality so well that I knew she preferred small cafes, artsy venues, outdoorsy places. This lovely restaurant with its polished black floors, sharp silver-edged tables...this wasn't Luna's domain at all. We'd been here fifteen minutes but it had been stilted so far. Nothing like the usual us. Nothing at all. But maybe this was a start.

"Thank you," she said with a smile that was more like her relaxed one. I smiled back. "Did you end up getting a copy of _The Quibbler_ yesterday?"

Funny. We hadn't seen each other in the two days since the letter arrived but it felt longer. I suppose getting the habit of seeing someone every single day did that to you. Or to me, at least.

"Yes," I paused and laughed. "And I ended up reading about that witch's run-in with Nargles in East Anglia. It was hilarious and I'm glad you recommended it!"

"Wasn't it though?" A smile creased her face and her blue eyes lit up. "The letter came in a dark green envelope that whistled the whole time it was reading it out loud."

"Yeah?" I arched an eyebrow, still grinning. I could just imagine the chaos. "Bet your assistant loved that."

"Bet the entire staff loved it," she said wryly. "Madness from morn till night, I say."

"Yeah? But you love it."

She shrugged her shoulders demurely.

"Aw, trying to be modest about it."

She started to laugh a little bit, her hand rising unconsciously to cover it up. I'd been trying to get her to quit that for months but to no avail. I would never figure out why some girls did that...but it was rather cute when she did it, anyway.

"This was a terrible idea." She said it so suddenly that I just stared. For the first time all evening, Luna was smiling. "Sorry for bringing us both out here. Do you want to leave?"

I grinned.

"Let's. Your place or mine?"

"Yours. Daddy's experimenting again." Which meant it would sound like the twins and Lee's apartment and we wouldn't be able to hear ourselves think over the banging and explosions. Mr. Lovegood was marginally better than Luna at spells but still...I worried sometimes. I stood up and walked to the other side of the table to pull out her chair. The cloak I placed over her shoulders.

"You sure?" I asked as I laced it up.

"Yes," she said, shaking her bangs back. "It's nothing dangerous at all. I think it might actually have to do with cooking."

I think I sighed in relief. That wasn't anything dangerous at all.

"Good then. Harry's with Gin and Ron's over at the Burrow, I think." Had Ron remembered to clean up the kitchen? I sure hoped so. With no dinner, I was going to cook again anyway. Unless... "Shall I cook or do we get take-out?"

Luna's eyes lit up. As expected. She'd fallen in love with spicy pad-thai a few weeks back.

"Oh, do get take-out!"

I grinned.

"Walk there or have them deliver?"

"Delivery."

"Surprise, surprise," I teased. "Usually, you're all about the walking."

She looked the teensiest bit sheepish, then looked down at her feet.

"Ginny's heels are not as comfortable as she'd made them out to be."

They did look rather...much. Spiked and feathers and all. _Oh, Gin._ I swear that particular Weasley was a bad influence on the rest of mankind.

"Should I carry you out then?"

I paused as it looked as if Luna was actually considering the idea. You'd think in all the time I'd known her there would be nothing she could do that would surprise me, but I kept forgetting that she was quite unpredictable. She could very well say yes in a moment. I started laughing again.

"No, no," she sighed. "We'll be apparating from the lobby in a bit anyway."

I rolled my eyes when she looked back down at her feet, then took her arm and lead her all the way down the stairs (which she managed very gracefully) and then across the carpeted lobby (which she didn't manage quite as gracefully) to the assigned area for entering and leaving magically.

"Ready?"

She nodded. I let myself go, thinking of my apartment's front door, and found myself there. I hadn't quite got the hang of doing it _without_ feeling like the pit of my stomach was leaving through my nostrils. Luna on the other hand, who arrived a beat later, looked calm and unruffled. As usual. I was going to have to ask her to teach it to me sometime. I lifted the wards, opened the door, and stepped back to let her in first. Ah, my apartment. Home. Thanks to all of us pitching in, and Harry's status as Savior of the Wizarding World, the apartment was fairly massive. Not as big as the twin's but Harry had really had to put his foot down when the Minister had offered him an entire building to call his own. This was the smallest he could haggle it down to but, truth be told, our stag quad was still spacious. We'd all put our stamp on the place so it ended up looking more homey than its modern interior design, with comfy leather chairs and a huge television and gaming room full of old-school electronics that worked as long as we kept magic down to the barest minimum in the place. There was even a room that was full of posters of all our favorite sporting teams (one wall I'd claimed for the West Ham football team) and another for collectible Quidditch equipment. We each had our own suite but we tended to hang out in the living room altogether most of the time. Neville's was farthest from the entrance on the left, mine was on the right, Harry's to the immediate left after the living area and Ron's to the right.

"Neville sent his things ahead?"

"Yep." I closed and locked the door behind me, then touched the door and sent the ward dropping back down again. "Just move it all out of the way."

I turned, she was already gone. I grumbled to myself before slipping out of my shoes and padding down the short hallway in socks. By the time I'd gotten to the living room, Luna was standing in front of the television with remote in hand, and a fire blazed in the . I eyed the fire, checking if she'd made it too large again, but it seemed alright. In any case, she hadn't noticed me yet - too busy being distracted by the moving pictures of the telly in front of her. She and Ginny were becoming easily obsessed by the tube.

"Take off those heels," I said, leaning against the counter. "Though you do wear them well."

She turned her gaze away from the telly with a slight grin on her face.

"That's not what you were saying when we were crossing the lobby."

"If I hadn't been there to catch you..."I let the sentence dangle and Luna let out a lady-like puff of air.

"I would have been fine."

"Wrong." I pushed myself off the wall and motioned her towards the couch. "Damn, but how do you get these things off anyway? They look so complicated."

She blinked and sat down.

"Do they? Pretty simple to me."

"Seeing as I don't wear heels regularly, excuse my inability to figure these ones out."

"Oh," she shot back, eyes twinkling, "but you _do_ wear them?"

I started laughing again. "I left myself wide open for that one, didn't I?"

She smiled back. "Must I answer that question?"

I shook my head and dropped to the floor at her feet.

"Back to these things though." I propped both of her feet in my lap. Although they looked extra, something about those black heels were very...attractive. Maybe it was the feathers. She sat quietly, watching me examine them I think, until I turned her feet over. Christ but there were no less than five straps up and down the thing, and those were just the ones I could see. I rolled up her jeans to see three more.

"Seriously?" I asked on the edge of a sigh. "Why ever do girls wear this kind of thing."

I went back to them, slowly, methodically, unbuckling and unstrapping until I was done with one foot and almost done with the other. The last one seemed to buckle twice, as impossible as it sounded. How the hell had they made only _one_ shoe doubly buckled? Was that even the correct term? When I looked up, Luna was laughing at me.

"Oi," I reprimanded, "I'm doing you a favor here. No laughing."

She waved a hand in front of her face and motioned me to go on silently. I rolled my eyes and pulled hard on the shoe to get back at her. I was rewarded with a gasp before she settled back down to let me do what I wanted.

"So dainty!" I exclaimed over her small ankles when the shoes finally came off.

"Did you think them large before?"

"Never had thought about them before actually," I replied truthfully. I resisted the urge to trace the sides of her feet (What the hell was that about?) and dropped them gently to the floor. "Shall I burn these for you?"

I picked up the shoes and made for the fire. I actually got an extremely shortened girly squeal out of her! Miracle! When I turned, she was half out of the couch and reaching for me with both hands. It was so comical that I couldn't help but snicker a little bit - her cheeks had points of color and wavy strands were escaping that neat little bun.

"I take that to be a no?"

For what could be the first time in her short life, Luna put her hands on her hips and frowned at me. On the inside, I was laughing hard.

"If you care for your life and mine, you'll put those back down safely."

True, my life would be forfeit at the hands of one irate redhead if anything happened to these shoes. I sighed, making a big show of it to get a rise out of Luna, and handed them back to her. She looked more than relieved as she took them and padded to the entrance to presumably store them away from me. I padded over to the island kitchen counter to get the phone, dialed the number for the

"Oi, you want your usual?" I yelled as it rang. "I'm ordering now."

"Yeah," her voice called back.

"Hello, yes, I'm calling to place an order for delivery...spicy pad-thai with glazed chicken, three platters of fried rice, four orders of vegetable noodle soup, and a side of crab wantons, two orders of yellow curry pork with potatoes...yes...yes...special? What sort of special?" Did I want an extra side of fried chicken? _Hell yes!_ "That sounds good - go ahead and add that to it...yes, yes, nothing else. How much will it be?...Hm, okay. Thank you."

"Didn't you have lunch?"

Had I? I thought about it.

"Yeah, but I didn't have afternoon tea, though."

She smiled. "Don't pretend there's a reason you eat so much. You just do."

I tilted my head and smirked. "True, true."

She shook her head a little bit and came over to sit next to me on the couch. I shifted automatically and she curled like a cat around her favorite pillow and for a little while we just watched the soccer game that was on. When the food came, we ate like there was no tomorrow. Alright, alright, correction - _I _ate like there was no tomorrow. Luna barely finished her order which I definitely was not complaining about since she let me have most of it, but boxed the rest to take home.

"I didn't get to tell you about the new addition to the Lovegood household, did I?"

I shook my head.

"I found a kitten in the garden yesterday - I went out looking for his mother but no cats anywhere." She yawned and snuggled even deeper into the couch. "So I suppose he's free to stay at our house."

"Named him yet?"

"No, not sure what to name him." She smiled, one of those rare really large smiles that meant she was very happy. "He's very...endearing though. So little and his fur is perfectly white and he sleeps all the time."

"I can't wait to meet him. He must be really cute if you're willing to admit it aloud," I teased. She laughed and yawned again before we settled back into watching the telly. But...

"We really do need to talk about this arrangement, you know."

"I know that." I sighed a little bit then looked down at her seriously. "What do you think about it?"

She looked back at me, surprising me with a small smile.

"Well, I'd never imagined they would pick one of my best mates."

She had that right.

"And I think they could be wrong - we're so very close but nothing like that."

Again, the girl was on the ball.

"I agree. You _are_ one of the most important people in my life but...I love you in an entirely platonic, I've-saved-you-you've-saved-me, I'd-tell-you-my-worst-secrets kind of way." I paused. "Then again, I wouldn't tell you all my worst secrets."

She smiled again.

"You thinking we should just leave it alone and continue on as before?" I asked carefully.

She nodded.

"Truthfully, I'd have to say I'm glad at least that it is one of my best mates." The blonde looked extremely thoughtful. No room for too many extra people in my life, I think."

"Hmm, I don't know about that," I asserted. "You seem to be making enough time for everything you _want_ to make time for, this summer."

"Like what?"

I rattled off the list of people and things she spent her time involved with.

"Which is everything I've already had in my life." She shrugged and hugged the pillow in her lap. "Nothing new there."

"Then what have I been hearing about you running into Hannah Abbott?"

She blinked. "Just happened to bump into her downtown, outside of the Ministry. Pure accident."

Hannah Abbott had been even more lost than I at the end of the War - with Alfie dead and her parents long gone, she'd left the rest of us behind and never looked back. The robot that she'd become...I'd heard from Hermione that she was working in some bureacratic department in the Ministry, that she kept to herself, that she had contacted anyone for over four months. God only knew how she was faring.

"Is she...alright?"

Luna was quiet.

"I think...had I met her the day before her letter arrived, she would have been." We looked at each other. She couldn't have been paired up with -

"A former Death Eater?"

She nodded, looking reluctant and sad at the same time. _Oh no, oh no no no..._When news of the hit on Alfire had come, Hannah had woken everyone up in the middle of the night with magic that her grief had unlocked. Two mini-cyclones in her room, books ripped, paint fairly peeling off the walls of Sirius Black's place, her roomate trying to fight through the wind to get to her side. In the middle of all that magic, she'd transported herself to the darkest place in the house...the dungeons. After four hours of searching for her, I think Hermione and Luna's group had found her first. Dirty, huddled, lifeless. She looked the way I felt two months later when Seamus and Lavender had been...attacked...out in the countryside...When she'd pulled herself together, she'd gone looking for who'd ordered the hit. She didn't know it...but Luna and I had accidentally found out who it was. We hadn't been snooping in the least - she'd come down with a fever and Luna had been taking care of her when I'd entered to check on them both. Sleep talking, feverish speech....whatever it was, we both knew who had ordered the hit.

And who Hannah had gone after in the Last Battle for vengeance.

But fate wouldn't be so cruel, would it? She couldn't possibly have become tied to-

"Nott?"

Luna nodded again.

"Fuck," I whispered. "I mean...wow...just...damn. That has got to be a fucking mistake. I mean, it _has_ to be a mistake. Surely, this spell for happily-ever-after cannot tie you to the son of your mortal enemy!"

Luna looked away sadly.

"Christ, I mean-" I stopped. "How...how was she?"

"Not very well."

_Not very well._ Right. Hannah was taking things in stride. Or she was in severe shock.

Shit, I'd have blown up the Ministry by now.

"What a fiasco." The Ministry was forcing the most unlikely and destructive relationships upon us all. How many others were being totally done in by this stupid affair? "What a friggin' fiasco."

Luna leaned against me, her eyes closing slowly.

"I think she's going to fight it. And I think she's going to need friends," she said softly. "More now, than ever."

I heartily agreed. People who are that...broken...usually do. Either way, that was a match made in hell. Hannah Abbott may have easily been described as a 'nice' girl before her brother's death, but she couldn't be called that by any stretch of the imagination now. And the worst part of it was that Theodore Nott had done his best to avoid battle - hadn't seen him almost the entirety of the War in any recon missions. It didn't make him innocent but he had _no_ idea what the hell was coming his way. I bet he didn't even know that his father had ordered the hit. This was a fucking _mess_.

"Are you going to see her again this week?"

I didn't hear anything.

"Yes? No? Maybe?"

Still nothing. When I looked down, Luna had fallen asleep. Her cheek was resting on the pillow, the bun completely undone and her long wavy hair spilling across her face and the pillow. It always amazed me how quickly she could drop off...I swear, give her a surface and five minutes of quiet and the little lady would be gone. She was a rather deep sleeper but she always came awake fully conscious of her surroundings. I could lift her and she wouldn't wake up at all. _Better do so then._ I shifted her sideways so that her feet were in my lap, and had another pillow float in under her head, then dropped a thick knitted blue blanket over her for warmth since the air was on.

"Tired so quickly?" I mused aloud. She continued to breathe deeply, evenly. I suppose she would be - interning at the office and still making time to talk to everyone and meet up with new people? Even though I didn't still fully understand her fascination with the seriously 'weird' of magic, I respected her dedication to keeping the magazine alive and thriving. Her work ethic was admirable - she kept stranger hours than Mr. Lovegood sometimes. She was really loyal, a good secret-keeper, one of the best-advice givers...and even though she thought herself rather staunch and 'ungirly', I thought Luna was 'nice'. She was a very nice girl. And I liked her for it. Only she would be so comfortable to be with that Hannah Abbott, so closed off, would tell her about who she was marrying. I swear, Luna was busier than she meant to be, most of the time. Made sense that she was tired. I smiled. Yep, I suppose she would be.

For a while, I forgot about the game and the telly and just watched her dreaming...I got so busy watching her breathe that I never even noticed when I dropped off to sleep too.


	3. Fun, Pain & Games

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
****Author's Notes**** - So far, so good. Thinking I can get this done in sixteen chapters for sure. Remember, I didn't say everything that Hermione had done in Rainbow...or Draco for that matter, so there will be events in this story that readers of _Rainbow_ will have no idea had happened. The first scene is one of them. Anyway, e****njoy! Plus Happy Way Late New Year and welcome to TWENTYTEN!**

* * *

Chapter 3 - Fun, Pain, & Games

_It's hard for me to believe that things can be good again after all the 'bad'. But good things happen, life and love and really **good** things keep bumbling along behind me to remind me that it can be. ~ Harry at breakfast to all of his roomates, at the start of summer._

* * *

"It's good to have you back!" I hugged Neville hard, momentarily surprised by just how glad I was to see him. I wasn't one to show so much emotion but I had missed him so very very much.

I was happy to be here in the apartment in his honor since we were holding a dinner held to celebrate, and were all really glad that he'd made it back safely from his business trip out of country. We'd been waiting in the foyer for over a half an hour, decorating with massive blown up balloons that hummed songs in the corridors and in all over the living room and decorating the entrance to his set of rooms in the place. Music was blaring from the television, Ginny and Harry had just finished decorating quite a magnificent vanilla bean cake on the island counter while Hermione had cooked something impromptu (bubble and squeak!) and sent Ron to get coconut treacle tart and hot cross buns at a deli place down the street. I'd just been thinking it very possible that he'd been abducted by phantom trough faeries, which I hear are plentiful in English summers, but no. It was good thing she sent him early because he'd made it back _just_ before Neville apparated in front of the open doorway.

"We've missed you, mate," said Ron cheerfully, albeit out of breath. Perhaps those phantom trough faeries had given chase anyway.

Four large white boxes were stacked up neatly in his arms. At the sight of them, I shook my head. There were four more stacked outside the door...trust Ron to get as much as possible. Then again, the boys could clean house if they were left to a kitchen and its provisions. He reached out a hand to punch Neville in the shoulder in a very happy way, surprisingly keeping the boxes stacked correctly. I spoke too soon - he made a face when the top one wobbled ominously, his face immediately focusing on the food.

"Might drop this if I'm not careful. Just let me leave this on the counter, yeah?"

Everyone laughed, before he jogged up the corridor, the rest of the boxes lifting and following him one by one. As he moved up the hallway, Hermione and Gin were running down it. Before they got there, Dean and Harry clapped him on the back and stepped back. Hah, and just in the nick of time since Ginny pulled him into a hard hug too while Hermione attacked from the other side. I could barely see Neville through all that curly hair. It was too much for Neville, clearly, who dropped the one suitcase he was holding unto and staggered backwards under their combined weight. I couldn't help it - I started to laugh, really laugh, lean-against-the-wall-and-shake really-hard kind of laughter.

Dean caught my eyes and grinned at me over their heads.

"It's good to be back, everyone."

Neville, who smiled often but laughed so very rarely, was laughing openly now. It was so _good_ to see him this way...I suppose he'd always been rather serious but the three days he'd spent in the hands of the Death Eaters, tortured just like his parents, had ironed out anything that had been soft in him before. He'd talked to Dean about whatever had happened but not me. I had no idea what it had taken for him to get through that with his mind intact. Because..._Three days is seventy-two hours, and seventy-two hours is an awfully long time. _

So to see him smile like this? Made my heart so full.

"Sorry about that," Mione said with a rueful smile when she pulled back. "Too happy to see you, I suppose!"

"Same here," chimed in Ginny. She pulled back with an affectionate grin. "Merlin, but it is so _very_ good to see you! We've missed you so much! You've missed so much, too!"

Another general burst of laughter before-

"Oi!"

Everyone turned to see Ron motioning us forward.

"Can we move this thing in here? Close the door - music is so loud, I'm sure they can hear us downstairs without the added help. Oh and drop the wards, Dean?"

More laughter, quick chatter as everyone but Dean and I moved away from the door and all the way down the corridor and into the apartment. I leaned against the wall, still smiling, as I watched him close his eyes and whisper the spell for the wards. No one would be able to get in, and that would be the maximum amount of magic they could perform and still have the electronics (was that the right word?) work properly. Sometimes, it still interfered but as long as we had the music for Neville, it would be fine. I watched them leave, watched Hermione and Harry chatter away to Neville while Ginny tried to distract them from the other side.

"You that happy?"

I startled out of my thoughts. Dean was leaning against the wall opposite me, arms folded across his chest and a grin on his face. I blinked. "Eh?"

"Your smile is just so...full."

I blinked again. He always took the words right out of my head.

"Is it?"

"Yes." He nodded. "Yes, it is. I've rarely seen you smile."

_I don't?_

"Let me rephrase that. You do smile, just not so..." He stopped, searching for the right word. "Not sure how to describe it. It's the difference between an every-day smile and an so-happy-I-couldn't-help-but-smile smile."

I thought about it.

"I am..." I searched for words too. "I am, I know. We've all been through much and when I see you all, I can't help it. I just feel that it's good to so see him-"

"That way, right? So happy."

I nodded and looked at him. He pushed off the wall and for a very disconcerting moment I was aware of just how tall Dean was, how much of him was solid muscle, how all that sheer height made him tower over me at all times. I had to fight not to take a startled step back and then shake off this really strange urge to take a good long look at him. I tensed briefly, figuring...myself...back out again.

_Strange._

"You ready to go back in?"

I startled again. Heavens, what was happening to me? It was just too odd.

"Yes," I said firmly, belatedly remembering his question. Thank heavens he hadn't noticed the lapse. Wouldn't do to stand there like a ninny or he defintely _would_ notice. "Yes, let's go."

"You alright?"

I just barely managed not to freeze, barely managed to look at him normally. _I suppose he did notice?_ I shook my hair out and smiled at him.

"Fine," I responded, as breezily as I could manage. "Just fine. Come along."

When he chuckled, I did something so rare that it took me a minute to figure out what the heat in my neck and cheek was. _Really?_ I blinked and walked a bit faster. At least the hallway was dim. I mean, only a night owl could see me...blushing. Hopefully all that pink on pale wouldn't be too noticeable? Perhaps? Who was I joshing - I sped up a whole lot, leaving Dean Thomas to continue to laugh at me from somewhere behind me.

-|-

"Is it _still_ top secret? You really can't tell us why you were so very suddenly sent on a business trip to Ireland?"

It was certainly the question most of us had been thinking about - but, of course, only Hermione would ask aloud. Which was pointless since there was a lot of shoveling of food into mouths on the other side of the table, Neville included. It took him a moment to finish swallowing before he cleared his throat to answer.

"Still can't but it's nothing bad at all." He smiled around the table. "Nothing bad at all. No worries, alright, you lot?"

Well, I suppose that was good. One shock at a time was enough. Dean and I had told him over the phone yesterday, about the two of us being betrothed. He'd been surprised but happy that at least the two of us knew each other. He had no idea who his would be but since there weren't any more girls in the group..."I'd be lucky as hell to know _of_ her!" he'd said. He was right. This was true. And after our conclusion - well, really, the decision that this betrothed thing wasn't going to change us in any way, that at least we were okay (if not happy) and we had each other, that we would continue to be best mates - we were looking in tip-top shape next to Hermione and Neville. He hadn't wanted to open the letter tonight but he was going to have to soon. And once he did, the rest of his life would play out in accordance. Three days to meet with her, more to figure out the enxxt step or the next move, the rest to find out if they were really as perfectly matched as the Ministry had claimed they were supposed to be.

I couldn't help the turn of my thoughts as I stared at him throughout the rest of dinner, as I stayed mostly out of the conversation. I wanted so bad for all of us to be happy...this group of people who had I'd become so close to in the last year. I hadn't had such good luck with friends before. I suppose I still found out it miraculous to have acquired them in such hard times. They brought out the best in me, I think. Understood me very well, would do anything for me, made it so that I felt that way in return. I smiled a little bit as Ron whispered something to Harry that had Gin punching him hard in the arm, Dean falling back to get out of her way, and Neville laughing (so rare, that) really hard. But this edict...

I had a sudden premonition, a forbedoing feeling, an inexplicable vision of the rest of summer.

Of an incredibly unhappy Neville. It was as clear as a bell: his face closed and as impassive as stone, his eyes as dark as the night we'd found him after his capture by Death Eaters. In the vision, his gaze was heavy on my face. I was the lens of the camera he looked into and whatever he saw there did not move him. I sucked in a breath, dismayed, fighting back the vision. My head refused to clear of it. It unfurled and played out like a Muggle movie reel.

He looked me dead in the face, then turning away with an air of dismissal so final that it felt like a permanent goodbye. And a blow to my chest. Tears I hadn't known could surge to the forefront were surging now. Where was this coming from? I sucked in another breath and blinked rapidly, looking down and shielding my face with my hair. And what was the ring of truth to it, as if it were a real disclosure of the future? I had to get out of here for a little bit, gather myself into myself and back together. I got up silently, made my way to the bathroom early in the corridor off of Dean's wing.

_Please, dear heavens, please...He has earned every right to be happy._

I closed the door, locked it, leaned back and shook. Too much truth in it. I was Who was he destined to be with? What young woman was going to make Neville look like that? Had that even been a true vision? Heavens, it felt real. That kind of thing had only happened once before - a week before Second Year began. It had been something almost as bad - it had been about Daddy having a very close run-in with an experiment. Same as this time: the shaking, the near-tears, the complete conviction that the scene in my head been truth. And it had sent me to the Head of my House, asking for someone to get my father in the fireplace so I could make sure he was alright.

"Luna?

Dean, at the door. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah?"

"I felt...something. What's wrong?"

_They weren't lying about that bond, were they._ Such strong magic to tie two lives down. How much could Dean feel of this? What exactly was he alerted to? Heavens but that vision...I had to breath. I had to take a step back and look at it objectively. And after a few more seconds of silence, I found that I could. Alright. I accepted the vision as portentious, perhaps, but what terrible portents indeed. I stopped shaking, flipped on the light switch and ran water in the sink. Water, face, wash, fine. Fine. Wow, my thoughts were all over the place. I wasn't even making coherent connections anymore. I breathed deeply, breathed evenly for a few moments and collected myself. I was calm now. I was good now.

"Luna?" Dean's voice was now flat-out worried, insistent. "I'm coming in there right now. Luna, can you hear me? Damn it-"

I pulled the door open to see him looking the slightest bit frantic, very worried, both arms upraised as if to hit the frame of the massive door. He pulled me into a hard hug before pushing me back by the shoulders.

"Wh-what happened?"

Now that the relief was past, he looked ticked. _Uh-oh._ I didn't want to see him angry.

"I'm sorry," I apologized quickly. "I think I spaced out for a bit."

A beat of silence as I looked away from him and then-

"You're lying." I couldn't help that my eyebrows rose up in the face of his conviction. And he was slowly moving from ticked to...er- something more. "You're lying to me. You have never liked to admit that you 'space', as you so eloquently called it."

When had he gotten so good at reading me? If I could pinpoint the time, perhaps I could get a Time-Turner and go back and change it. That thought wasn't helping me in the present though. Dean's face was its own little storm cloud as his hands let go of my shoulders to cradle my neck. _Alright, whoa. **Not** what I'm used to...at...all._ We got close all the time, really, but not in situations like this. He didn't even look like it was throwing off - in fact, Dean Thomas looked like we engaged in this kind of thing all the time. I felt the beginnings of that unfamiliar heat that signaled a blush. And fought to remain calm. Maybe I could explain my way out of this?

"Not only that but whatever is tying us is kicking in. I could feel the mood slide from positive to negative throughout dinner, though it took me a hell of a while to figure out that it wasn't me. It was you." His thumbs stroked and I got distracted, kicking that blush back down into the depths. "So cut it out and _spit_ it out, Luna."

"I'm not really sure how to describe it." I sighed then realized it made the pad of his fingers go into further action. Not good for me. I looked down but held myself very _very_ still. My voice was not strangled when it emerged from my mouth, but it wasn't strong either. "Felt like a...vision. Of Neville unhappy. That's all it was."

"Look at me." _Do I really have to?_

"Luna."

His voice was a warning in and of itself. Which meant that the answer to the aforementioned question was a resounding yes. I was angry that my first instinct had been to evade the question although I hadn't wanted to outright lie to him. I was angry that I couldn't control this tendency to blush around him today, that I couldn't push back the thought that he would judge me if I told him. I was angry that the vision had been something that wouldn't (couldn't, by any stretch of _anyone's_ imagination) end well for Neville and I knew in my bones that there was truth in it. I was angry that Dean was angry and I hated it when any of my best mates were angry with me. And I was angry because I hadn't wanted him to think me crazy. I had the uncontrollable and uncharacteristic urge to...curse. But I wouldn't. I wouldn't look at him.

_Calm. Unruffled. Serene. _

That's what I needed to be. I wouldn't look at him until I had mastered myself. I breathed deeply (hadn't I been doing enough of that in the last five minutes? And hadn't it worked? Why should I let Dean come along and shatter that for me?) and almost lost it when the pads of his fingers began moving again over his neck. But I kicked that feeling down and kept my eyes on his chest and breathed. And then again. And again. _Just calm._

_Calm. That is what I am. Good. _Finally, I could meet his gaze head on.

"Sometimes I can't read you at all," he said seriously. "Sometimes, I have no idea what is going on in that head of yours."

I couldn't help when pain blossomed in my head. I closed my eyes against it. See, this was _exactly_ the reason why I hadn't wanted to tell him a thing. I wasn't even angry, just hurt. Why had I ever opened my mouth to tell the truth? Couldn't I have just brushed him off or lied convincingly? Now, he thought that I was-

"That's not crazy."

I looked up at him sharply. His gaze was serious on my face, that good-ol'-chap charm gone since he was watching me so closely. He cradled my face, bending so low that we were now face to face. It felt like he was holding me steady, anchoring me so that I would look at him.

"That's not crazy," he repeated firmly. "I worry. I'm very worried too. Ever since you told me about Nott and Hannah Abbott, I've been worried as hell over Neville. I can't imagine how Hannah is dealing with it, and she's nowhere as close to me as Nev is. I've been anxious about the fact that he could become tied to an ex-Eater this last week, and it's a legitimate worry, Luna. So don't disregard it. Or me. Didn't you tell me about the vision before Second Year?"

I nodded mutely.

"See? You trusted me to believe that so trust me to believe you about this. I don't ever want you to think that you can't tell me something important to you, like that. Ever. Alright?"

He smiled and the smile turned into something that made my chest tight and achy and very uncomfortable. _What is **wrong** with me?_ Perhaps it was the sheer emotional weight of the last three hours - such a swing from very happy to terrified and anxious. That's surely what it was. I thanked the heavens for small favors when his hands dropped from my face, to squeeze my shoulders, to leave my body entirely. At least, he hadn't noticed this time.

"Alright."

"Good. Now...do you need another moment?" His grin turned mischievous. "I promise I won't be kicking down the door this time."

I began to laugh and Dean took my wrist and began tugging me down the hall. Down the hall, out of the corridor, back among friends. And by the time we settled down on the couch, after he winked at me and rubbed my neck, I realized that I wasn't worried anymore. That I was laughing, that the vision seemed a distant dark thing that I didn't need to be anxious about. I looked up at him, this very good friend, the very best of friends and wondered...

Seemed like he was always doing this to me.

/-|-\

"Mr. Lovegood, are you sure you don't need help?" I asked doubtfully.

He was carrying an armload of what looked to be heavy boxes filled to the brim with assorted pottery, glass jars filled with brightly-colored constantly shifting liquids, and clean parchment. It looked dangerous with the top two wobbling, his body hidden by those boxes, and the four boxes that were trailing low to the ground right behind him looked even more so. Those were tripping hazards just waiting to happen. If he wasn't careful, he was going to- _Crap!_ I leaped out of the chair as one box almost took Mr. Lovegood down. He recovered, just barely. My heart sank back into its normal place mid-chest.

"I'm alright," came the muffled voice from behind the boxes. A moment later he poked his head out, dark hair ruffled. "I've got these here but you can take those ones back in the office."

I was afraid to leave him alone after that near mishap. Understand this - Mr. Lovegood is actually a very competent wizard. I'd seen him in action only once at the beginning of the War, back when I hadn't known Luna very well and before she'd begged him to leave the country and be safe. In fact, he was always in the middle of creating _new_ spells when I was over here or manipulating old ones to new processes or ends. It was just that he was so careless in the sense of what happened to him while he was experimenting. He would be so focused on finishing his experiment that he could be burned and endure - hell, if he even noticed it! - until he was completely finished. Sometimes he would forget meals, which drove Luna to rare displays of irritation, or he would sleep in that lab. I was going to go grey early worrying about this man.

He smiled as if he knew what I was thinking, motioned his head towards the office, and turned to make his slow way down the corridor leading to the experimentation room. I (understandably!) hesitated before heading off to the room. I had to stop in the doorway to check if I was in the same place.

"Wow," I muttered to myself. The normally chaotic room was orderly. A miracle? "Never thought I'd see the day."

A flick of a wand to get four boxes up before I lifted the last three which were pretty light to begin with, and backtracked down the hallway, across the living room and into the lab. Where he was at a desk in the corner, unpacking some of the stuff in the boxes. Which was good. Very good. He grinned when I entered the room, then motioned me over to look at something in the textbook. Before long we were arguing over whether or not a spell could be created to make a wand unbreakable.

"But wood always breaks," I argued at some point. "The breaking comes from within, doesn't it? Too much magic that it can't hold - isn't that why it breaks?"

"True, but if the spell was aimed at the capacity of the wood to maintain a spell...because the capacity is the problem."

I paused at what he said, thinking about it.

"How do you even propose to do that though? No such spell exists."

"Exactly." His eyes twinkled - twinkled! "This is a new spell altogether."

I arched my eyebrows. Of course. Why hadn't I thought that he would build it himself. Sounded liked a project.

"Sounds interesting though I have no idea how that would work. I wonder-"

"Aren't you two busy little bees?"

We both looked up to see Luna in the doorway, smiling a little bit and looking very pretty in a light blue sun-dress that had a smidgen of dirt on the hip. She was barefoot and I could just bet the bottoms of her feet were covered in soil from her garden too. The sun hat was pushed back a little bit, the loose strap hanging around her ears and down the front of her dress.

"The new spell."

"Wands?"

Mr. Lovegood and I nodded at the same time.

"May I see it later today?" She pushed the hat farther back on her head. "I'm borrowing Dean to look at the garden. And to keep Kit out of my way."

Kit, the adorable kitten whom I'd named since Luna had let me. He was still pretty small, even after a week of constant feeding, but he was energetic and playful and I felt like I was watching toddlers whenever I was with that little thing. All I did was jog or run or laugh or duck paws. Or, in this case, keep him out of Luna's way when she was pottering about her expansive garden. Since I'd given him a name, she was going to name the puppy I got next week.

"Kit's in the garden right now?"

She nodded. and we looked towards the desk.

"Daddy?"

"Steal him away then." Mr. Lovegood smiled even as his attention slipped back to the volume on the desk. I could tell he was going already. "Early repast later?"

"If you'd like," Luna said, before glancing at me. "That is, if Dean's cooking."

I chuckled.

"Don't I always?"

"Ninety percent of the time," she replied with a small smile before turning on her heels. "Come along."

I followed her out of the room and found myself admiring the way she moved. She might have been a bit forgetful and very whimsical, but there was nothing clumsy about Luna. She was graceful, more comfortable standing than sitting, more comfortable barefoot than That long dress swished around her knees as she moved, a delicate gold ankle bracelet glinting in the sun slanting through the windows when she stopped to get an apple in the kitchen. I admit I used to like to watch her back at Hogwarts sometimes when she'd be wondering around the lake with those silly radish earrings swinging in her ears. Muggy end-of-term time, summer heat - me and Seamus sprawled over the grass instead of studying, watching people walk by. Luna would literally _wander_ her First Year, looking aimless but content as she meandered around the wet grass of the lake's shores. I remember how wavy her hair was, the random streaks of light pink at her temples, the way the sun hit her face and her skin kind of glowed. Her skin was doing the same thing now, as she pushed her way into the garden still with no shoes on.

Male appreciation? Perhaps. Whatever the case, I liked to watch her move.

As she turned to me, I smiled (okay, that was definitely in part some male appreciation but damn I loved to see her go about her business!) and leaned back against the door. Hopefully through this growing bit with the link where we could sometimes feel each other's emotions, I could sense how happy she was. That's what this garden always did for her, eh? And if I was reading correctly, she was happy to have company.

"All you really need to do is sit down." She looked up at me with a smile. "He comes to you whenever you're near anyway."

I dropped slowly, mindful of my size in a way that I never was anywhere else. I'd made the mistake of swaggering in here on my first time and had crushed an entire plant - damned if I'd ever seen Luna look quite so blue. It made me extra careful these days, and usually if I was thinking about it, no poor unsuspecting plant life was hurt in the process. This was the first year, of course, that I'd been close enough to Luna to be a regular party at her home, so the garden was still pretty new to me. Colorful, almost artlessly organized, which leant it more wild feel. It seemed to me Luna didn't do anything that would really take away from the garden's own nature, even weeds to some extent were allowed to grow as their wont. Early and late-blooming flowers, blooming splashes of light cream and startling red, and young bright periwinkle blue and slender yellow and pink shoots - even rare 'black velvet' flowers were alive and thriving in this place. It was lovely to see.

"Dean Thomas, garden helper extroadinaire," I quipped, and got a small smile from Luna. Kit crawled on his belly through the stems of plant, not all that mindful of what he was doing really, and made a beeline for my lap. He was super aware of all comfort zones...and I equaled comfort in the extreme. I'm surprised I trumped the warming plant though - that thing was his favorite outdoors spot. He was looking delightfully healthy these days - all that white fur thickening and becoming smooth, his eyes shiny and alert, and he was awake for most of the day.

"Hi Kit," I murmured lifting him up to look me in the eye. As expected, I was licked right across the nose. I laughed a little then put him back down in my lap where he got comfortable.

"Worked like a charm," said Luna as she dropped down next to me. Her hat was back on her head, fighting off the sun of a rare bright day. "Thank you."

"No problem." I grinned. "How are you feeling about Hogwarts?"

"Hmmm,"she hummed as she worked on uprooting one plant. All I could see was her back. "Good. Finish up this year and freedom."

"Strange to think Hogwarts will be back and functioning."

Her shoulders rolled.

"Very...no Dumbledore, no Hagrid since he's off in France for the Year, and no Snape. Very strange."

Too true, too true. She continued.

"Not to mention fewer classmates - I don't know how many people will actually send their children back."

"The hold-your-darlings close syndrome," I murmured. War would always bring about that sentiment in the populace. Always. "Even so, one more year to go and you'll belong entirely to _The Quibbler_."

We slipped into silence, me stroking the cat in my lap and Luna successfully transferring the plant from a basket of soil and into the earth with its own kind. I settled for watching her again, not admiringly now, just interestedly as she gave free reign to her creative interests. The strangest urge to use one hand to pet the kitten and the other to stroke all that golden hair almost took me. In fact, one hand was already reaching out to do so when I caught myself and frowned - this bond was making me a bit loose. She never noticed..._thank God for gardens..._Before long she was moving away from me, walking along the myriad paths to different areas of the garden to tend a bruised leaf here, a broken stem there, drooping flowers elsewhere. Wherever she went, the flowers seemed to automatically lift. I kept forgetting magic was in the soil here - mayhaps my extra-awareness of all the green life was because they _were _actually far more alert than I usually gave them credit for. At least half-an-hour slipped by this way. Even Kit wandered away for a bit, batting butterflies and generally gamboling about out of reach. I watched him, and watched her. And then perhaps an hour more dissapeared. And then Luna was standing in front of me and ready to putter out of her special place.

"Ready?

She nodded and reached down, as if that little hand would help me get up. I took the hand and pulled her down harder than normal, bringing her tumbling into my lap. When she sputtered, I started to laugh hard.

"That's what you get," I teased as she sat up properly, hat off her head and her hair in disarray around her face. Her dress was going to be smudged some more but at least the look on her face was priceless surprise - like she couldn't fathom how a) she got knocked off her feet b) much of stellar prankster talent I had to get her off her feet and c) the why of why she got to be sitting my lap. It was such an unexpected look that I laughed even harder - imagine, her so startled that she showed it - which made her turn...dare I even think it? She was-

"Are you blushing?" I asked in awe. Hadn't ever seen her go pink. Ever. "Luna-"

She brought a hand up to touch her face, as if the blush could be touched. Which of course, when she realized I was watching the whole thing, made her turn an even prettier shade of that lovely color. She blushed very prettily, which was a feat since she hardly ever did it all. No such thing for people of my skin color and I thanked God for it - if my face let out a warning that I was embarrased every time I _was_ embarrassed, it would get annoying quite quickly. Luna was getting annoyed - yeah, look at her, blue eyes narrowing now as she glared.

"Aww," I joked, "look at that fierce look on your face. It's so fierce that it's _adorable_." The pink forgot all about retreat and rushed up her neck again. God but this was too easy! "Combine it with that pink and I think I have a very stern-looking witch on my hands."

I started to laugh again when she looked on the verge of becoming a storm cloud.

"Arright, arright, I'm done teasing."

I was still grinning as I looked down at her in my arms, then realized that she was _in_ my arms. As in my arms were wrapped around her, not tightly, but..._comfortably_ like that was where they were supposed to be hanging when unoccupied.

_When the h-_ Creeping up on me all unexpectedly. _Why Dean, what strange thoughts you have._ I What was I going to do next, I wondered?

She pushed out of them with force that said irritation and I dragged her back in. Willfully. So maybe it wasn't the bond and maybe it was me. "I'm done teasing, I really am! Don't be irritated - it was just that you offered your hand."

She channeled Mione and sniffed hard. Which made me want to chuckle because she was even cuter this way. Fighting a losing battle, I was. So I gave in and grinned actually hugged her to me, really embraced her, very tightly. For a moment she was still and standoffish but she relented after a minute.

"You are really very annoying when you wish to be," came the wry whisper. When she pulled back, she was arching an eyebrow.

"Comes with the territory of all those girl siblings."

"Or maybe you're just naturally a pain and hide it well?"

I laughed at that. "And perhaps you're easily overwrought and _don't_ hide that well?"

"Touché," she said and graced me with a smile. "Touché."

She pulled away completely and stood to her feet, the dress skimming and moving and shaking with her. God but I needed to stop thinking about that dress. Thankfully Kit came bumbling along into my lap again and distraction was complete. And then Luna was wondering why I hadn't been hungry for the last two hours, and then I myself was wondering the same thing and then the two of us - ahem, three including Kit the kitten - trooped back into the house.

"Still working?" I asked, when I stuck my head through Mr. Lovegood's lab door. He looked up. "Ready to eat?"

"Finished cooking already?"

I raised my eyebrows. "Haven't started yet but don't I always?"

He inclined his head.

"What's on the menu today?"

I stroked my chin, weighing the question. Because, of course, the matter of food is **always** a weighty question. There was still enough leftovers from last week's meal that I wouldn't have to cook a lot to supplement it for them - seriously, call me Chef Dean Thomas since I was clearly the cook for this household! - and that would only consist of making more rice. And maybe some dessert. And since I was going to be playing Quidditch around six o'clock that eve with the rest, I didn't want to eat too much. It was only one o'clock in the afternoon but I didn't feel like a full meal, go figure. So instead of a real meal-

"Cake," I declared. "More like, cupcakes to be exact. I'm going to make rice for you two meanwhile but cupcakes are what I want right now. It won't take too much time and we'll make enough to feed a small army, which should last you a week or so."

"You mean, a month or so." Mr. Lovegood started to chuckle. "Feel free to make whatever you like, as I'm sure you will anyway. And I'll be around eventually, still working on this here."

I frowned. Here we go - he was already beginning to submerge himself in the his new quest. It wouldn't do me any good to try and convince him that he should come out and eat before I headed out that evening but I couldn't let it go so easily either.

"Alright," I said, shaking my head, "but don't forget. Or Luna will come by to remind you."

He smiled at that. "Doesn't she always?"

I grinned, closed the door, and headed back to the kitchen just in time to see Luna looking like she wanted to cook something. With the flour and sugar already out. I winced. God forbid.

"Luna?" I asked cautiously. Her hand was reaching for something in the cupboard over the sink. "Please tell me you're not attempting to...er...make something."

She paused and sent me a look over her shoulder. I almost laughed.

"Are you?" I asked seriously.

She shook her head and pulled out a massive mixing bowl.

"Good." Exhaled. Reached for my wand, whisking flour and sugar and margarine from the fridge into the bowl. Shot her a look designed to irritate. "Because I'm handling that right now. And you wouldn't want to burn the house down again."

"That was _one_ time," she said, now thoroughly and openly exasperated, "and there wasn't even much of a fire. _And_ I caught it before _you_ did."

I had to laugh.

"Someone is just so _extra_ touchy today! Something in the air, perhaps?"

"Someone in the near vicinity, perhaps?"

"Ah," I paused and pouted at her for effect. And then added in hands on my hips for a better effect. "You break my heart when you say things like that. I'm sensitive, remember? And can be easily provoked to annoy the life out of you if you make me sad."

This got a lovely tinkling laugh out of her, and she was still laughing like that when I dropped a bit of icing on her nose. The laugh turned into a signature Luna Lovegood almost-gasp (she never gasped aright). Then shock flitted across her face.

"Did you just-"

I backed up, grinning all the while, as she sputtered in the most un-Luna like fashion, swiping at her nose so now the white was smudged all over her nose. When she dropped her hand away from her face, a little bit of the white stuff rubbed against the front of that blue dress. She looked down, more shocked than when I'd swiped her face, and then looked back up at me. Elegant Luna Lovegood couldn't be put together with all that vanilla cream on her face and down her dress, and seemed to be awed by the fact.

"Indeed I did."

I continued to grin at her, then arched my eyebrows in a way that she would read as challenge.

"Your face was missing a little something-"

_Sploosh._

She took the challenge seriously. Speaking took a back seat as I landed on my ass, courtesy of quick thinking magic that created a puddle of water beneath my feet. I'm sure I looked like an idjit on the floor, mouth open, mixing bowl still in my arms but some of the icing now on my shirt. It would be comical, the exact same way that I looked down at my shirt and saw half of my precious batter on my shirt, then looked up at her. Had she really just done that? Had she really just took up the challenge?! The messy but elegant Luna Lovegood smirked - smirked, by Merlin! - above me.

Forgetting magic, I used my hands to lob the rest of the stuff at her and was rewarded with a splatter dead center of her chest. And then it was just outright war. I got that bag of flour and dumped it all over her by brute strength while she pitched sugar at my head and got it in my eyes. Never mind the sugar - I was going to get water from the sink and make her into the beginnings of a baked good if I had a chance. Indeed, I found the thought so very pleasing that I whispered the accio spell to get strawberry preserve hurtling through the air from a cupboard across the room and then made sure half of it got into her hair. She retaliated, quite violently I might add, with catsup and mustard - let's just say my trousers looked like artwork when she was done. Then there was a pitcher of water, something with pumpkin, perhaps some ice cream was in there. When she threatened to dump banana peels from the garbage all over the place - _that's_ when I panted out the terms to a truce.

"We even?" she gasped, a hand on her side. She managed to toss her strawberry splattered hair over her shoulders and peer up at me through the powdered sugar on her eyelashes.

Were we even? She looked adorably messy. And kind of...delicious. I puzzled through that thought for a little bit then pushed it away to answer the question.

"Oh yes," I grunted. "Even. Clean up?"

"Together?"

I nodded, leaning back against the sing and breathing hard.

"Deal," I heard her say. Something about her voice made me look over, start to chuckle. That adorable little dress would have been ruined had she been Muggle. The blue was buried under a myriad of other...er...colors and substances. And yet, even with jam in her hair and flour between her toes, Luna Lovegood was as pretty as a picture. But damn if she didn't look a mess! The chuckle turned into downright laughter. When she caught my eye, a smile tugged at her own mouth.

"Did we really-"

"-just do that?"

The floor was a righteous mess - smeared jam ground into flour and sugar and was that curry on the floor? Where the hell and who the hell had used curry? Water turned one side of the room into a white paste, mustard was splattered on the low cupboards and over a bit of the rug leading out of the kitchen and into the hall, pumpkin pie crust was crumbled over the tiles and had somehow gotten to a windowsill, while our bare feet were covered in ice cream.

Yep, we'd really just done that.

I burst into another peal of laughter at the carnage around the room, looking at it then looking back at her, then looking at it again. When the kitten poked his head , she dissolved as well. And that's the way Mr. Lovegood found us, huddled together on a messy floor and bubbling over with mirth, when he walked in five minutes later.

/-|-\

"Short break!" I called to my partner-slash-assistant Eric across the loud room. Monday morning and I was at _The Quibbler_'s office for an all-day staff meeting to talk about the next month's issue. Or at least it had been scheduled as an all-day affair but really was going to take much less time to clear up. Field assignments had been assigned but there were problems with us being one short

On the agenda today was this meeting, lunch with Gin and Hermione at the Burrow (which meant lunch with Hermione and the Weasleys and Friends), and afternoon browsing in magical London at this new jewelry stop that had opened with funky pieces. A pretty easy going day as far as I could see. Maybe a spot of tea at home with Daddy and gardening in the late evening.

Sounded like a _perfect_ day to me.

"Hour or half?"

"Half," I responded. "No lunch for me but do you want me to get you a sandwich and coffee?"

He smiled gratefully and nodded, before chief-editor snagged him and called his attention to the sheaf of documents in her hands. I grabbed my purse and my wand, headed across the room and out the exit, then off to the bathroom to apparate from their. In no time I was standing in front of the Muggle bagel shop that had become a regular favorite among our employees, and a big hit with Eric especially. It was a rather nice establishment with outdoor tables for those rare sunny days, and a cozy for a crowd inside. The lunch rush line had already formed - this might take all of my break! - but at least it gave me time out of the office. I hummed as I waited, thinking about the upcoming afternoon, then hummed some more and thought about radish earrings. I wondered what else I would discover in that shop - mayhap I could get a present for some people. Yes, since I was going to meet Dean's family for the first time since the letter (and the third time in all - I'd met them twice with the rest of our friends before this) a present for all would be nice. Adi liked to read, didn't she? Hermione could help me pick out a book. Naira was a singer so perhaps something along the lines of music would suffice for her. And Mrs. Thomas? I felt this unsettling need to impress them now. Could I-

"Miss?" I startled to see the chubby boy in front of me waving a hand in front of my face. "Miss? Your handset's ringing. And the line's moved up. You're almost next."

"Oh," I said, not surprised I hadn't heard it. Happened all the time. "Ah, I see. Thank you...Hello?"

"Luna, it's me! How's the staff meeting going?"

"Dean!" I smiled into the phone, as if he could see me. Bet he could hear my pleasure anyway. "I'm at a bagel shop right now, actually. And it's almost over - another hour and we'll all be straight."'

"Good. Then what are you going to do with all that free time?"

"Late lunch with Gin and Hermione then browsing that new store Twinkle."

"Those poor earrings," he teased. "You know, I actually quite liked them. They were very you."

I'd thought so too.

"So are you studying?"

"Yes, yes." His voice was a long-suffering sigh. "It's been four lonely long hours already and I feel a little drained. And I'm hungry. And I wanted to hear your voice so I called."

My chest felt tight suddenly, my heart beating a staccato rhythm in there. I looked down and rubbed it a little, surprised at the feeling. Hadn't I gotten rid of this a week and a half ago, after Neville's party? What was going on? Talking around the feeling was difficult, left me a little bit breathless.

"Ah." I cleared my throat, made my voice more firm. And was hit with a good idea.

"Give me five minutes."

"Eh? For what?"

I looked at the clock on the wall behind the cashier desk then judged the time it would take for the chubby boy in front of me to be done. Good, I'd have time. "Just give me five minutes."

"Uh...okay?"

I smiled a little at the way he made it a question but no time - I was up. "Bye!"

A steaming cup of coffee and a blueberry bagel with cream cheese later, I was dropping off Eric's lunch on his desk and then heading back out to get some food for Dean. It would have to be around his place since I wouldn't apparate with packages. Hunger, I could deal with. The strange beating of my heart would just have to wait.

A massive order of fish and chips, a side of tartar sauce that was more like a take-out tub than a cup really, and then three slices of toffee cake - I was weighted down with two boxes by the time I was up at the register of the small cafe where I'd gotten desert. The girl behind the counter raised both eyebrows as if she couldn't believe I would eat all of it but took the Muggle cash I gave her anyway. I stood still, shifting the one package to make room for the other and thanked the girl for bearing with me. Then I was out the door and down the street to walk to his place. I winced a little as I thought of the sort of dent this would be making in my pocketbook for the week but then thought of how happy he would be that I'd come to him with food. That would more than beat out any other troubles, for me. I wanted to see him happy.

_I wanted to see him happy._

The thought struck me as odd. Unfamiliar. And my chest did something strange again. Well, yes, I wanted to see him happy. He was Dean, one of my best friends in the world, for heaven's sake. Why should that be a strange though to me? Why should the shape of those words be so strong, the weight so heavy? It wasn't...unsettling. And it wasn't heavy.

Or shouldn't be.

I found myself rubbing the space right above my heart again, underneath the two packages, and breathing a little deeper to look for calm. It shouldn't be unsettling. It shouldn't be a heavy thought. At all. But no matter how much I tried to convince myself of this truth, the thing was the twisting wouldn't go away. And I couldn't stop rubbing. Not even when I was standing in front of his appartment door, slapping an arm against the door with my busy hand.

At least when he opened door, the look on his face was worth it. Surprise, then a deep pleasure that suffused his face. He was quiet but smiling so fully at me that I smiled too.

"I brought you something," I murmured - wow, was I feeling shy? Had I ever felt shy in my _life_? This was unfamiliar. If I hadn't been so captivated by the look on his face, I would probably be rubbing my chest by now. As it was, I had to settle for wincing on the inside and then breathing deeply. To re-center myself. "Hopefully it's enough."

Without a sound, he pulled me close - really close, so close that it was heat...so that _he_ was heat - and settled his face into the crook of my neck.

"You are an amazing girl, Luna Lovegood," he whispered.

It should have tickled but it didn't. And I would have laughed had I thought about it closely - I was? Because I'd brought him food?. And perhaps it did and I couldn't notice since my arms had somehow wrapped themselves around his neck and I was trying to figure how and when and why I'd done it. "You really are. I wanted to hear your voice but seeing you is even better, I think."

_...Oh!_ I bit back a gasp as the twisting returned, harder than before. What the h-...no, what _was_ this feeling? How could I concentrate on the present when my body was going wild? I was going to have to hire my own Medi-Wizard soon, to fix my ailing heart. Because it wanted to break out of my ribcage and lay itself on the floor. And I felt extremely uncomfortable because of its efforts. Which made me aware of how closely intertwined we were - and still hugging? Could he hear me, that my heart was going out of control - I mean, _I _could hear me and that was no mean feat. If I could hear me, then Merlin, _he_ could probably hear me too! This was such an awful time for it to feel this way when I wanted to say that it was nothing, no big deal, that he was more than welcome and I'd do it anytime. I was going to have to go to St. Mungoes. Get myself checked because this was becoming more uncomfortable at the moment.

Really.

He puffed a little puff of air into my hair and then let me go. That interaction had probably taken more than ten seconds at maximum.

It had felt like a month.

With another dazzling smile, he looked to the left and right to make sure there were no Muggles and then floated the boxes into the apartment and down the way. I thought he would turn away, turn around, to go back in but alas no. He took my hand and tugged me inside while holding on the whole time. But the weight was getting worse instead of better and I had to stop him and take deep breaths. Immediately, the pleasure dissipated in a wash of concern.

"Are you alright?" I waved him off when he would have touched me. He looked a little disconcerted by that, and then even more worried.

"I just need to breathe," I said softly. The air was helping a lot already. "My chest started hurting a little while ago. I-"

This time, Dean moved to pick me up and I had to back up quickly.

"Space is good." It was a plea. "You pick me up and it won't help very much."

He looked anxious and frozen- I could see the cogs turning as he weighed my words. I could tell he itched to pick me up and carry me to the couch, what with his arms being unnaturally still, but he settled for standing on the other side of hallway. Really, breathing was getting easier and easier. Just to look down and lean against the wall was doing wonders. The twisting dissipated slowly but surely - the discomfort went away completely. He watched nervously and carefully the entire time...I ignored it. But before long I was well enough to smile at him reassuringly.

"Much improved," I said. "See? Much better."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded and pushed off of the wall.

"You still need me out of your space?"

I shook my head. He looked doubtful.

"I won't come near you if it's going to relapse or something."

I smiled a little bit. He really looked like he would walk about ten feet in front of me until we got to the kitchen. And the hallway wasn't all that short so he could definitely maintain such distance. I gabve him a look, trying to get him to smile but he wouldn't. _Wow_, I thought, _he's really worried._ It was nice for him to be so worried.

"I'm scheduled for a check-up at St. Mungoes soon anyway. Might as well make it next week so I know I'm fine."

"When did this start?"

"This one? A few minutes ago, while I was getting the food." I placed a hand on his tense arm. He looked at me, half ready to move if my chest were to go into palpitations again. "Look at me, I'm fine. I'm alright. I'm not sure what that was but I'm sure a little bit of rest will clear that right up. So, stop worrying - it's alright."

He gazed at me. Reached out and stroked my face, then touched my hair.

"As long as you're sure," he said slowly. "As long as you're sure."

"I am, I am." It was my turn to pull him the rest of the way to the kitchen, where the boxes were sitting neatly on the counter top. I turned him around and pushed him gently towards the food, then went about to get a large dish he could eat out of. He stood there, still gazing at me carefully when he thought I wasn't looking. I pretended a large smile so that he would kick back and sit down. Only in degrees did _that_ happen. By the time I got him in front of the fried fish and chips, I had less than ten minutes to get back to work.

"Now, will you relax?" I exclaimed, "and eat a little bit? Come on, I know you're quite hungry after _four _hours of intense studying. At least, let me know if you like it. I've got to go back to work in ten."

He smiled and then held out a chip. I ate it without question.

"Good, good," I said around the food.

"Where'd you pick it up?"

"Hm, two streets down from here - it's called Stuart's Fish & Chips. Dessert's from our usual."

"Yeah?" he asked. I nodded, taking another chip from his plate. "Thank you for this. And thank you for coming here. Even though you're body is apparently breaking down."

It got a little laughter out of me.

"Could I leave you hungry and fending for yourself?"

"Oi," he said with affront that I knew was a joke, "I fend rather well. In fact, I often _fend _for you too!"

Heaven knows that was true.

"I concede."

"And get that check-up - if you don't by next week, I'm going to schedule one and take you there myself." He looked very serious about it. I resisted the rare urge to snort but he wasn't done. "I want you taking care of yourself - perhaps a little less gardening at night? Or at least come home from the office earlier, if you can. Whatever it takes, just...just take it easy. Alright?"

I patted him on the arms without actually making a commitment to any of those actions. Always worked to get people thinking you'd agreed. Then I dusted my hands off and stood to my feet but stole another fry before I started moving

"I'm letting myself out - going."

"You didn't agree," he called in a warning voice. "Are you going?"

I smiled and waved over my shoulder before calling out-

"Already gone!"

-|-

"You look fine now," Hermione was saying doubtfully. Meeting for lunch had turned into meeting-for-late-afternoon-tea instead. She wasn't touching her frosted doughnut or sipping at her tea. No, arms folded. Looking like I was a problem she was going to solve. "And you say this happened once before? At Neville's two nights ago?"

"Yes, it did."

"Do you think it could be indigestion? Maybe something you ate?"

"That affected her heart?" interrupted Ginny. "Is that even possible?"

"Oh yes," said Miss Know-It-All, as the boys so often called her, quite knowledgeably. I hadn't the faintest idea whether she was correct or not but since she was almost always correct, it wouldn't hurt to believe her this time too. "But I've never known you to have indigestion. In fact, you're like Ron and Dean. You eat whatever you want without anything happening to you."

"That's why it's so strange," I murmured.

"Schedule that check-up for sometime early next week," advised the redhead. "You'll know for sure after that. Meanwhile, all you can do is be on the watch for that sort of thing happening again."

I nodded. She was right.

"I'm going to want to look this up but there's so little information to go on..." Her voice trailed off, as if she were already imagining flipping through the paages of a heavy volume of healing text to look for the answer. If we let her daydream too far, she'd up and leave to go actually _do_ it. I looked at Ginny meaningfully and the girl took the hint.

"Never mind about that. How are things with ferret face?"

"Peachy."

This was said with a stony look on her face. Peachy. Of course. A toothache looked less pained than that face.

"Really," I deadpanned.

"As peachy as can be in the circumstances," she said stubbornly. She still looked like...

A gargoyle.

"What happened?"

"First real fight today, I guess." She sighed, pushed her pastry out of the way and propped her chin in her hands. "All because I asked him a question."

We'd been waiting for something like this to happen. No way Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were going to get through this betrothment unscathed.

"Seriously, I can't believe the nerve of him! I had to go home and watch the telly for a whole two hours before this, before I could calm down enough. Ridiculous!"

"Hmm," hummed Gin, "well that's one landmark out of the way."

"I despise this arrangement," said Hermione earnestly. "I really do. I am at my very _worst_ when I am around him - I am snarky and angry and irritating when he's near, and I really don't like that. I wish I could be a little more mature about it, be more mature about _him_ but then he does something-" - (she jabbed a hand into the air at this point) - "and I'm at wit's end and ready to be cruel. How can I stop myself?"

"It's hard, isn't it, when you've been set in a way of handling that person for so long." I sipped my tea thoughtfully. "I'm not going to say anything like 'don't worry, it'll be okay' because it won't, not without work. Are you willing to work at it, even if he doesn't?"

"See, that's the thing," she sighed, "I don't want to be reasonable if he won't. Because his unreasonableness will surely defeat my effort."

Gin inclined her head. "Hear, hear. I think this is just going to have to run its course, for now. The best you can do is maintain civility. After that?" She shrugged elegantly.

...It was up to the two of them.

'Mione looked grim - I couldn't imagine that she had been doing any less than that, but I agreed with her: your effort is only as effective as how well it is received. And it sounded like the two of them weren't doing an awful lot of receiving. Or trying to understand each other. Because I love Hermione, I do, but she was a singularly-minded witch. Stubborn is her middle name. Change does not come easy to her and I've never been sure if change is entirely welcome.

"Well," I said softly, "well. Be firm and be civil. And I think things will-" I searched for the proper word, proper turn of phrase "-follow as they are supposed to. They will."

She offered us the half-smile that meant gratitude and a desire to change the subject. I complied.

"So...Padma Patil."

"Padma Patil is unfortunate to be betrothed to my brother," snorted Gin over her tea cup. "That first letter he wrote? The note? Completely unacceptable. I have half a mind to coach him through this process."

"Atrocious handwriting too," observed Hermione with a sniff that wasn't snobby in the least. _Hah._ "And then to decipher that...secret...language and read that note? Is it any wonder that she sent him a Howler in response?"

"Magnificent," I agreed. And it had been, or so I hear. Lunch at the Burrow so that he was set down in front of his entire family plus whatever friends happened to be over at the time. I almost wish I could have been there to see his face. "At least he's learned his lesson."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. What I _would_ say is good luck." Hermione made a face. "Well, that among other things."

"Hermione Granger, Pessimist extroardinaire."

"Made that way by the Ministry!" she shot back. "I could do without the extra stress that damned ferret brings to my life."

"It does seem like they got a few of these 'love' matches wrong, doesn't it." I made it a statement, not a question, and Gin sent me a very shrewd look.

"Including you and Dean?"

...No.

No. I shook my head slowly. Last week, after opening that letter, yes I would include myself. But now? After hearing about Hermione's woes about the bad influence that Draco was in her life, making her feel like she was unconsciously cruel and petty around him, that she couldn't even be civil most of the time? Or Hannah, who's appeal to the Ministry had been soundly rejected on the basis that she and Theodore Nott, son of the killer of her beloved brother, were definitely _meant_ to be together? I hadn't the right to loop Dean and I in the same group as cases like that. Not at all. In fact, it made me all the more grateful to have him, to have someone who already knew me and who already fit into my life, a man that I already trusted implicitly? I had a good deal with Dean Thomas. I had a _very_ good deal.

Hermione pointed a finger. "It's just that you don't believe in love."

"You do like to twist my words don't you." I shot the brunette a glare which, judging by her lack of reaction, really wasn't much of one. I sighed. "It's not that I don't believe in it. I do. I do, I do, I do. I've seen it...and it's there and it _exists. _I mean, how could I **not** believe it when I see the way you and Harry interact? The way Daddy misses my mum? The way even sometimes Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, or your parents 'Mione, get around each other? It's there."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I believe in it for _others_. It's something that I don't see myself getting crazy about - it's not like I discount the possibility that it could happen to me. But-" I shrugged my shoulders, holding out my hands palm upwards, imploring them to help me figure out. Perhaps, go ahead and convince me. Throw proof in my face that maybe it could. Because I hadn't cared on way or another whether I would fall in love _before_ the letter, and now, tied to Dean, I wasn't so sure. And what would change if I did? I voiced my concerns aloud.

"Say, I did. Unlikely and certainly not true at the moment, but hypothetically. Say I did want to fall in love...so what?" I looked from one girl to the other. "How have I changed the game for myself, by my so-called decision to love someone, anyone? Does deciding mean it's more likely to happen?"

"It's an influencing factor, though." Ginny looked thoughtful. "You have decided it's not for you and so you haven't."

If I could roll my eyes, I would.

"No one listens to me. It's not me _deciding_. Nothing so concrete as that. It's me thinking on it and seeing that I'm not really the kind to."

Gin threw her hands in the air. "Which is like deciding not to. You already _think_ that you're not suited for it, so...you aren't. How do you know you that you haven't passed potentials in the past? Boys who did think you were pretty or cute or interesting? You _don't_ because you didn't think you could!"

"Hold on, hold on," interrupted Hermione. "She has a point. So what if you decided to love someone? Doesn't mean that you would. Doesn't mean that if you finally _did_ love someone, that they'd love you back."

"Thank you," I said. "See?"

Gin, like a wise old sage correcting wayword protegees, shook her head as if she pitied the two of us.

"What are the two of you looking for, eh? What kind of fantasies have you been spinning out when you think of the word 'love'?" It was her turn to look around the table. "I said that there were many different kinds of romantic love, and that's true. No couple has the exact same kind of relationship as another. But...are you two looking for some sort of contract? Something unreal? Hermione, are you going to wait until you have a _guarantee_ that you will be the most important thing to him?"

That brought me up short.

"There is _no_ guarantee. None, Hermione, Luna. None."

"I know that," Hermione said, looking pensive. "I do. What we have here is not even the same situation - we've been _given_ the men we're _supposed_ to be with, right? So, Luna, if you decide to love, it has to be Dean." She winced. "Heavens but I hate the 'have to' part of this. Where do they _get off _just deciding for us? It's not as if we have a choice in who we're going to fall in love with - it's not a kind suggestion, it's a mandate."

"That aside, though," interrupted Gin impatiently. "That, aside, there are no guarantees in any relationship. I don't always - actually, it's a 50%-50% thing these days - see eye to eye with Harry. I expect to be extremely important to him, and we've come along far enough, that I know without a doubt that he loves me. But I'm not looking for a guarantee that we'll always be together. Though I think we will," she said with a little laugh, "

"The whole world knows you will," quipped Hermione. "His confession on the war field of the Last Battle has made sure of that."

I laughed. "Too true. I'm not worried and I'm not looking for a guarantee. I'm not even really thinking about it now. Dean and I are best mates, close friends, and it's good that way."

"And any other way?" asked Ginny, that same shrewd look on her face.

Any other way? Well..._there are no other ways that bear thinking about. Right?_

Right.


	4. Struck by The Thought

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes - I have a **beta**! This is so exciting and I thank my new friend Lauren in advance the help she's going to give me on this story. ~ I've been getting interested PMS from readers and I'm glad. The momentum from Rainbow is a lot less, which is understandable because DracoxHermione fiction is one of the biggest draws to HPFANFIC, but at least **some** of it is trickling into S&M. So I just want to thank all of you who are still interested in the rest of the characters because you keep me going. And I'm thinking, although not too seriously, about beginning an original manuscript for a book with the formal intent of looking for a publisher...we'll see. I'm also BOGGED down with work this year - taking a few chemistry courses, a few public health courses and I have lots of writing and exams in between. Updating is going to slow down because of this but I will keep to my promise of updating at least once a month. Even though this is late. Yes. Promise.  
HERE ARE A FEW deviantart goodies (un-space them if you want to see) of our three female bffs together in one place: http: // chronicdoodler. deviantart. com /art /Girls-of-HP-14437170 , http: // blueundine. deviantart. com /art /HP-Girls-61457901 , http: // littlegreenfrog. deviantart. com /art /HP-Girls-76183387 .  
Then here's one of Ginny, Luna & Hermione in wedding dresses (sketches by achimico that I find gorgeous): http:// achimico. deviantart. com/ art/ Wedding-Faces-53894957.  
****Then here's one of some of our main characters, and it is a personal favorite: http: // vitaxzen. deviantart. com /art /Students-of-Hogwarts-137267948**

**Okay, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4 - Struck By The Thought

_Sometimes, I swear it's like you all are blind. It's dangling in front of your nose! - Mrs. Weasley, on a pair of lost socks, to Ginny (and Luna)_

* * *

Thank God for beer.

And alcohol. Because they, it, the two of them, made for the beginnings of an excellent stag night which was the current agenda. A long overdue stag night. At our favorite little sleezy bar in downtown London. The roomates hadn't had one since before the letters, since before Neville went jetsetting off to another country, and things had been busy in the two weeks since. And God knew that Neville was looking a little grim these days, Harry stressing about the Ministry haggling him into creating a family crest, Ron's off and on tiffs with Padma sending him careening from nice and sarcastic to rude and sarcastic.

Yeah, long overdue.

"Firewhisky," murmured Ron, already a little bit gone. He raised that flagon into the air like it was a flag that ought to be waved vigorously. "The stuff of life. The very stuff of life."

"Aye, aye," I agreed. Nev and I exchanged an amused glance. "Although I would lower that back to the table if I were you."

I was rewarded with the drink raised higher and a lopsided grin. Predictably, it slopped over the sides and unfortunately, hit the table and Neville at the same time. I laughed at Ron's lack of surprise and Neville's dismay and then let it go.

"Harry, you alright, mate?" asked

"Now, I am."

Unlike, the redhead, Harry was one of those quiet observant drunks. Harry took a deep drag of his and then leaned back with the thing cradled between his hands. Clearly, he wasn't going to let go of it until it was empty...which mightn't be too far in the future. "Tough week."

If by tough he meant shooting down repeated attempts (owls, phone calls, wheedling, _anything_) by the Minister to get the Potter family something legitimately theirs in terms of a 'family crest' then yes, it had been a tough week for Harry. I'd thought it was hilarious that the Savior of the wizarding world was going to be felled by something so inconsequential, Neville'd said it was awfully invasive of something most families consider personal tradition, and Ron had in the end backed out of the conversation altogether. Not that he couldn't be bothered but that Padma and her family was now taking up so much of his previously unoccupied time.

"Tough week?" Neville said, in a voice that was the slightest bit mocking. I laughed at Harry's face. "Well, I suppose."

"Oh, shut up. Dean, you are getting awfully close to Luna, aren't you?"

I had seen this coming a mile away. I grinned and shrugged it off.

"We're best mates, idjit."

"Best mates on the edge of something more, don't you think?"

I kept the grin in place and rolled my shoulders again. They were loony, the lot of them.

"I don't want to know _what _you all think we get up to when we're together but it's not anything like that."

"Yeah? And yesterday wasn't 'anything like that'?" Harry and that damned smirk.

Okay.

Well, that was a total exception that he had happened to walk in on something that looked suspiciosly like what he probably wanted us to be up to, the creep. Because _maybe_ it looked like I was going in for a kiss but what I was _really_ doing was blowing at her face because she had gotten something in her eye. She'd been blinking so rapidly that I'd just knelt in front of her (because I needed to get on her level!), held her face (otherwise she would have been moving, wouldn't she?), and gotten close (so that I could aim properly!). Harry had taken it and **ran** with it, telling all the others what he'd seen but twisting it so by the time we sat down to dinner five hours later, none of them could look me in the eye! As if I'd gone all the way right there on the couch with her? Who did they think I was - Lockhart before his accident?

Tcht.

_Not bloody likely._

"And I already explained that to you, you instigator!"

"He doth protest too much," chimed in Ron with a comical knowing look on his face. "You know, I'm not sure why you two made that friendship pact. It's bullshit. Especially since you're apparently _supposed_ to be together. The friendship won't stop you from...you know?"

Ronald Weasley. The picture of clarity. Oh, but he wasn't done.

"Yeah, and I was thinking about it, and you know what?" He stroked his chin then looked dead-on at me. "Luna is actually really pretty. Like, seriously pretty. I never think about it because...well, because I just don't see her like that. But she was all dressed in white and standing after lunch yesterday, and the sun hit her in just the right way and she looked angelic. It was so startling!"

"Oy, you were thinking about what?" I interrupted, half-joking. I found myself reaching out to punch him before I could help myself. "Mate, worry about your own!"

I was half-joking.

But..._half-not_.

Yeah, well, I'd noticed it too. Ron wasn't the only one. And kept noticing it. She really was attractive in a whimsical I-may-be-related-to-faeries-and-other-mythical-ethereal-creatures kind of way that I found fascinating. Kept noticing it when I was with her. Seriously, it was hard _not_ to notice it these days. Her hair in particular was of such a lovely almost white-gold color that I had to admit Ron was right - sometimes, the way the sunlight hit her lit up her hair like a halo. Whether it was outside walking around, or her sitting in the windowseat in her room, or out gardening with Kit for company...She was really pretty. In a non-classical fashion with wide-set eyes and freckles and that pert nose and her lashes were the same color (and hadn't I just figured that out this week? I'd never bothered to note the color of her lashes before!). And I wasn't going to blame that on the bond. But that was only natural since I was spending so much time with her these days. Day in, day out, we were together for a few hours at the very least.

Speaking of such, she hadn't been to my Mum's home since the letter and since tomorrow was Saturday and I was due for a visit at home anyway, I was taking her with me. It felt weird to formally introduce her like that 'Oh, hey Mum, Luna's actually my betrothed now'. Betrothed. What a heavy old-fashioned word. Didn't seem to fit us in the least. Too much implication, too little lightness. And my entire family knew Luna at least a little bit (Nai said I talked about all my mates at least a little bit). The twins may or may not have forgotten though. Regardless, I felt weird and a little bit anxious as if they wouldn't like her (which was absurd), and a little excited (like I was really introducing my future bride...which I was...but never thought about her that way...)-

_Why am I rambling in my own head?_ Time to cut the personal chit-chat short.

"Arright, arright, mate. Change of subject," I said then turned to the redhead. "How'd the meeting with the family go?"

"Go?" he said, his eyes focusing on my face slowly. "Go? Hah! It did not 'go'. Terrible, if you must know. Or, er, terribly."

"Don't approve?"

"Don't even like me." Ron snorted, gulped down some more firewhisky, and slapped a hand on the table. "Not just that but they've made it clear that they had _already _picked out someone before this. And that he's still in the running."

"Serious?" I exclaimed. That sounded _miserable_. "Wow."

"And Padma?" asked Neville. "What does she think?"

"The chit let me stew about it for a week then told me that it wouldn't be a problem but I'd need to impress them."

"Ah, mate," said Neville with a half-smile. "Sounds easier said than done."

"What's life without a little spice, eh?" the redhead joked. "An argument here, falling out with the girl's parents there...the Patil family is giving my own a run for their money in terms of how much time I spend with them."

And who would have ever thought, right? Life without spice indeed. I couldn't imagine having the family of your future bride opposed to you...and no, not the _idea_ of you but you as a person. Disapproval, and outright denouncement. _Not my cup of tea, _I thought to myself. Thank God Mr. Lovegood and I had taken to each other way back in April. At first he'd been a little reserved but soon enough, when he found me a willing listener for his looniest spells, I was golden in his eyes. I couldn't imagine feeling uncomfortable at the Lovegood Place...seriously, what kind of backwards world would _that_ be?

"What are you going to do?"

"What I have to."

Ronald Weasley smiled a little bit more, looking like he truly..._relished_ the challenge.

"More power to you, mate." Neville "The very opposite - the Changs like me, it's their daughter that's the problem."

We all turned to look at him since he hadn't talked about Cho from the very start. Would just clam the bloody hell up whenever the subject of the arranged marriage came up. As far as I could see, she hadn't sent any owls, hadn't called to set up meetings with him, hadn't come by the appartment (Ginny and Luna lived their half the time, and even Padma had been up two times or so) and generally didn't seem to really...care. Not that she should - okay, no, she should. He was my best mate and she should care because he deserved a girl who cared. But all that personal feeling aside, I'm sure she wasn't happy about being paired up with someone she didn't know very well but...she wasn't making any effort. Instead, it was all on Neville to make sure they met so neither of them got tired, who had started visiting her parents because they were nice and they reminded him a little of what his parents would have been like had they lived.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, looking back down at his drink.

"She's so..." He looked up at the ceiling as if the thing would drop the right phrase, the right words straight into his mouth. Too bad ceilings don't actually do that. "Careless."

Or maybe they do. Luna would know, though, wouldn't she?

"That's the word. Careless. As in she could _care_ less." He dropped his head and met the gazes of each and everyone of us at the table.

_Wow,_ I thought to myself. _And wonders of wonders?_ Mate looked irritated. Supremely irrirtated. I hadn't seen negative emotion in Neville in...God only knew when. Was the sky falling?

"And you know that I...really hate complaints, that it really irks me to hear complaints so I hope that's not what it sounds like I'm doing. But she is really beginning to frustrate me."

Second surprise of the evening: he was admitting to her irritating him?

Aloud?

Cho Chang must really be a straight piece to make Nev utter that kind of thing outloud. I felt as if my mouth was in danger of hinging open at this series of awe-inspiring events! And clearly Ron agreed with him because his mouth was doing what mine clearly longed to do as well. I mean, Ron and I were rather straight-forward characters. Irritation, humour, sympathy - Mrs. Weasley always joked that we weren't just open books, that our books were written in bold massive lettering! (The twins had sniggered for a long time after that...) Even Harry was pretty clear - if he was moody, boy did you know it. But Neville was difficult. He'd been becoming more and more serious before the War but after he was captured and tortured by Bellatrix? He could mask pretty much _anything _he wanted very well. Implacable, hard to read, and not one to make us worry. And that was the problem...Not that he had to weep or anything sensitive like that but he'd smile even if he were tired or upset. He usually walked away from anything that angered him so we rarely saw him angry. Ron, Harry and I sometimes weren't even sure whether we were doing something he didn't like, or irritating him, when he walked away like that.

Pretty much, Nev was like stone.

And the thought made me think of Luna's creased eyebrows, her scared eyes, and that damned vision. I didn't doubt her for a second. Cho Chang was looking more and more like Neville's personal nightmare.

"Mate, it's the beginning of the summer," interjected Harry, clapping him on the back. "I'm sure it's going to take time for the two of you to get used to it. To each other."

"Yeah," said Ron.

I nodded as I didn't have anything to add. Because I agreed. But also because I was worried. If Cho Chang didn't shape up, Luna was going to hate being right.

/-|-\

I came awake slowly with the thumping on the door. Thumping. My door. My bedroom door. Thoughts trickled in every so slowly as I struggled to piece together what was happening. _Ah. _Saturday morning. Visit to Dean's family. Difficulty waking. Not enough sleep. Thumping? Door? But wasn't it much too early? I blinked hard, hard enough to move my brain to quicker thoughts. Or...quicker at least for me in the morning. So, it was Saturday morning. And I was still in bed. And tired in bed. And there was knocking at my door which wouldn't be my Dad. And today I was supposed to visit Dean's family? So...thumping meant-

...Dean?

_Why was he already here?_

"Why am I already here, eh?"

I blinked. Thoughts coming slowly still. I'd heard the first sentence called through the closed door of my bedroom but everything else was fading out . Any minute now he was going to barge through- spoken much too late. Dean was standing in the open doorway, larger than life and certainly larger than the entry's framework, ducking in and striding to the bed. Had my father known I'd become friends with someone who may or may not be descended of giants, I'm sure he would have built the room even larger. I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and looked around the room while Dean looked down on me. He'd be talking for a little while anyway, no doubt scolding me, but it was difficult to concentrate first thing in the morning.

Perhaps I'd tune him out while I got all my faculties in working order?

Decision made, I returned to the heavy business of waking up. When I was little, my parents had told me that I slept all the time when I was a baby. In fact, Mummy and Daddy seemed to have trouble waking me up long enough to feed me and change me and play with me a little bit. Within a month of birth, I had been taken back to the hospital so that the Medi-Wizards could tell them what the problem was. I have poor blood circulation, it seems, so it always takes me a very long time in the morning to come fully awake. Or conscious, really. Because waking up was a process for me - little movements to get me alert enough to I blinked, a lifetime's worth of time in that blink, and blinked again. Then yawned again. I really was tired. Strange. My hands hit the bed, looking for the warmth that would signify Kit's presence, but I had to rummage around for a bit before I finally found Kit sleeping tucked between the two big pillows. Might as well leave him as is. And probably tune Dean back in. He'd be about done by now.

"...and see? I'm right because I knew you'd be asleep."

_Hm._ I yawned, blinked, rubbed my eyes all over again, and then tilted my head to look up at the man standing next to my bed.

"You do look tired though," he said with a sympathetic look. I looked at him a little longer, knowing that he'd get that I couldn't speak yet and he smiled. _Good._

"Yeah?"

..._Huh?_ I...hadn't...said anything yet. _What? _Pause.

Then-

_Dean!_

His head snapped back and I think it hit us at the same time. He could hear me. And I wasn't speaking. So...he could hear my thoughts?

"Ohhh." The word was a long-drawn out audible version of a shudder. Shock on his face. His eyes on my face. "Oh....oh."

If I'd had the sense of mind to laugh, I probably would have. As it was, all my concentration was taken by being utterly surprised. A thought would suffice but the thought was very slow in coming. It may have been a few minutes later when a concrete feeling developed.

_Ah._

Alright, so that was short. But it startled a laugh out of him and I think smiled in response. The next thought came a little faster.

_But I can't hear what you're thinking._

Still laughing a little, he shook his head.

"It'll probably happen later today...I can't imagine that we'd be more than twenty-four hours apart."

_What does it feel like?_ I thought.

After he said that, Dean just sat there and looked at me. Not looking, really. More along the lines of gazing, staring as if I were a whole new person, as if he'd never seen me before. One of his large hands reached out to do something with my hair, stroke it back from my face. He was still smiling from the laughter before and it made him look a little happily dazed. Made him look like looking at me made him pleased with what he saw. Which...I didn't know what to do about. And since my faculties were coming back in working order, it was best that I...at least, think...of something for him to do. And perhaps figure out what to do with this new dimension of the relationship. The Ministry was turning into such a bothersome institution.

"You want me to do something?"

It was my turn to startle. He'd heard that?

"Do you-" I swallowed and blinked a little bit. Ah, I was in working order. "Do you think you could control that?"

His smile shrunk to an equally mirthful half-smile. "Seeing as I'm an expert at it already...no."

"Try to stay out of my head."

"Secrets?"

I looked at him for a little while.

"None that you need to know."

I looked away from him before he could read anything deeper into that. There was nothing behind it anyway. And he looked confused when I left it at that. But there wasn't much more to add. And I had to quit thinking at him so that he would get out of the habit of responding to thoughts. Right. So I sat up and rolled my shoulders slowly then bit back a yawn and waved him off the bed. I sat there on the edge, with my legs swinging, and rocked a little as the blood rushed to all the right places. I'd learned a long time ago that getting up immediately usually meant I'd be sprawled on the floor and suffering from bruises for the rest of the day. Dean, who'd never actually woken me up before, stood there a bit confused.

"Luna, I thought you'd been joking about needing so much time," he said a little worriedly. I shook my head.

"Wow." He whistled. "Shall I just carry you to your bathroom then?"

_Uh._ Eyes widened. I must have thought too long because he took that as a definite yes so-

Not even a groan. He just picked me up off the bed like I was the lightest thing imaginable, then turned and started walking.

"Did I happen to think 'yes' in my head?" I said wryly.

"Not at all."

"I thought so. Just making sure."

He just smiled down at me. And the smile made me feel even more uncomfortable than the gaze a few minutes back had. Which really meant that my body was rearing up to do something strange because these days I was feeling most uncomfortable at the strangest of moments. Why did they all come in this varying degree of tightness in my chest? Only yesterday I'd been breathing hard through this thing. Perhaps I should make good on my oath and _really _go to St. Mungoes to get myself checked out. But what a bother that would be...and first thing in the morning too. Good thing Dean was here at least...if I happened to do something as unimaginable as crumple or faint in the bathroom, he'd get in there in no time. But if I told him that my chest was bothering me again..._He would call off the whole day._

He stopped walking and swung his face downwards and I immediately remembered the bond.

"Why would I call the whole day off?"

"Stay out of my head, won't you please?"

He looked suspicious. I tried not to have a concrete thought. It was...rather difficult.

"Why would I call the whole day off?" he repeated, much more insistent than before. Would that today weren't the day for this to kick in. And with his habit of not letting go of a topic if he became suspicious...

"Because I look so tired." I invented it quickly and delivered it with a voice of irritation. "And I really do wish you would stay out of my head. It's difficult waking up, and it's even more difficult having you respond to every errant thought in my head."

Dean immediately looked contrite. And, of course, I felt a little bit bad afterwards.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll try not to. And if you're really that tired, then we don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I'm sorry too. Didn't mean to snap at you. And I really _do_ want to go and meet your family again - I've been looking forward to it all week." I smiled at him. "Forgiven?"

He started walking again even though he was still looking at me. And now he was smiling again.

"Always."

After fifteen minutes of pottering about the room, pulling things out of hidden places with the _accio_ spell, and otherwise taking a bit more time than I usually do getting ready, I exited the bathroom more nervous than before. And there wasn't really a reason to be nervous. They knew what I looked like, who I was. It's just...

_Whoo._ I blew a puff of air out of my mouth, disturbing my bangs. _Whoo._

"You don't seem much like yourself, today," said Dean the moment he saw me. "You aren't nervous, are you?"

I wanted to do something uncharacteristic and shrug. Instead, I offered him a smile and took his arm.

"You most definitely are," he said, even as he allowed me to pull him out of the room. He stopped though, and made me stop too. "They already like you. You're certainly not stepping into the lions' den, you know."

I knew that. Didn't really help as much as you would think it would. I suppose he could tell because he grinned at me and reached for his cellphone.

"Shall I call them in advance and tell them to put away all weapons and wands?"

I smiled and held his hand still. "Just let me deal with this, yes?"

Still grinning, he was. But I could tell he was slightly serious when he asked his next question.

"Are you sure?"

Yes, yes, I was sure. Why wouldn't I be sure? Why was I unsure to begin with? I was going to go, and not let on anymore how I felt so Dean would leave _off_ and let it go. Which was for the best. If I were to keep him out of my head permanently, until I figured out a way to really stop him from reading me when he wanted to.

_This day is off to a **ripping** start._

Not in the least bit bothered by internal turmoil, Dean took my hand and pulled me down the stairs.

'Breakfast?'

I shook my head. I really wasn't that hungry. And knowing a little bit about the Thomases, I suspected there'd be all I ever wanted to eat at his family's home anyway. And, did I mention that I wasn't all that hungry? He smiled over his shoulders and continued down the stairs, through the living room and back to Daddy's study. Who had gone ahead and made a headstart on the wand project, without my help.

This at least motivated me to put my free hand on my hip and glower at him.

"Daddy-"

"Not even a good morning, sweetheart?" He smiled a little, then got up from behind the desk. I could feel Dean's amusement at my side but I didn't bat an eye.

"If you had let me finish, then you would have heard me say that."

"I rather thought you were going to scold me instead," he said, as he walked towards us. "That hand on your hip must have led me wrong, I suppose?"

Of course he was right. And he knew it.

"Good morning," I said sweetly. "Why did you start the experiment early? Didn't I say that I would help?"

"I wasn't alone." His eyes twinkled. "We didn't want to wake you too early, regardless."

_He hadn't been? We?_

I turned slowly to gaze at Dean. Dean, who usually stayed clear of these kinds of experiments. Dean, who was fairly busy with helping out at Weasley's Whizarding Wheezes and visiting his family and preparing for his preliminary Exams in a week and then the Final Exams at the end of summer. He stood there looking a tad bit uncomfortable as I looked at him. I was sure he thought my father brilliant, but he certainly made no qualms about expressing his concern over the safety of most of the experiments. And now he was helping...because...because-

"It's an interesting project," he said. "And I'd rather see him safe while he's experimenting. I have more experience with Healing, anyway, just in case."

I'm not usually so sentimental. Really. It must have been that I'd been woken up so early. But for the third time this summer, I was swamped by emotion that made tears threaten to charge to the forefront. Because Dean Thomas was so...sweet...that he cared to take time out of a rather busy schedule to make sure Daddy would be alright. Who was becoming interested

"Luna?" said the cause of my loss of control. It sure didn't help when he squeezed my hand and pulled me closer to him. "You alright?"

"Yes." My voice came out in a strangely hoarse whisper. Which was my body's way of telling me that tears were close...I mean, aside from all that brimming that was going on in the eye region. I blinked rapidly, shooing those terribly stubborn tears away, and spoke again.

"Yes, I'm fine. Well...good, that you weren't alone." I turned back to my father and smiled. "That's good. In any case, Dean and I are going to head off then, alright?"

Daddy nodded, already in the process of returning to his desk. He spared us a grin though, and told us to greet the family for him. We promised we would, or rather Dean promised for the two of us and said goodbye, while I attempted to return to my center of calm. Sadly, Dean with his newly found abilities to read me like a book, would not let it happen. Outside the door, he pulled us to a stop, tipped my chin up and stared me dead in the eye. No space for me to back away, no quarter given.

"You alright?"

Instead of answering, I rose on the very tips of my toes and slipped my arms around him. The moment my arms slid around the bare skin of his neck something strange happened. Even thinking about it now, I can't find the right words to tell anyone what it felt like.

The closest I can get is this: my mind shivered.

Imagine standing outside under the sun on a nice day. Clouds go skidding across the sky, blocking the sun for a minute, and a breeze blows. In the absence of the sun, the breeze feels cold doesn't it? Take that feeling and making it an entirely physiological feeling. I doubt that I had any outward reaction to the sensation because I was so surprised by it. In the shivering was a growth, and in that growth was something unfamiliar and not of my own mind. It was intuitive and sentient and it was Dean. It didn't take me more than a shocked moment to figure that out. Was this how I felt to him? Did he see me like this? A growth, a glow, a living breathing 'other' in his head? Because with my eyes close, I could _see_ him, if that made any sense. Not anything distinct or tangible but...it was Dean Thomas, nonetheless.

It must have happened in that moment - the shiver, the growth, my understanding - because I was brought back to the present when Dean hugged me back.

I smiled a little. He was beautiful inside of my head.

"Are you smiling?" he murmured, his voice a rumble in my ear.

I smiled wider. "You can feel that?"

"Well, you _are_ smiling against my cheek." His amusement was palpable. "What's this hug for, by the way? Not that I mind in the least, though."

All that sweetness that I sometimes forgot about - Dean reminded me today. Beauty inside and out, apparently, was not a myth either. I believe that I sometimes disregarded the warmth of this relationship, all the good things that Dean had done for me and shown me and led me through - I never took it for granted but I was starting to see that sometimes I simply forgot about it. I hadn't realized that he could still surprise me, that he could still shock me, warm me with the things he did. Those stubborn tears were back. On the verge. But I wouldn't let them fall. Instead I smiled harder, thinking about the year we became friends, thinking about how inseperable we'd become during the War, thinking about him teasing and cooking and bringing laughter into my house, thinking about him helping my father, thinking about the strong glow in my mind that I had characterized as beautiful. Thinking. About all of it...all of him. All of it: Dean Thomas.

At the end of a long silent moment, I couldn't say more than the words I was thinking.

"Thank you," I whispered, hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

/-|-\

I couldn't help looking at her as we walked up the meandering path that led to my family house. I mean, I regularly enjoy looking at Luna because of her natural grace but today was different because she was different. I'd rarely seen her the way she was today - genuinely happy, smiling more. No...

_Glowing._

When I had woken her up this morning, after an hour and a half down in the lab gathering materials for her father, I'd had no idea about her condition. And wasn't I supposed to be a best mate? How the hell had I gone for years without knowing about it? I had felt strange as she sat there blinking ineffectually, trying to clear sleep out of her eyes, staring at me without much recognition, moving incredibly slowly. It had been a hell of a thing to find out but it had explained so much. And I'd felt a little bit like a dunce for not knowing, did I mention that? And then of course: the big surprise of the morning.

Me. Reading her mind. Unconsciously.

I don't think I would have noticed if she hadn't done that mental scream in my head. In fact, I'd probably have continued to answer questions she'd never voiced aloud all day before realizing. When it hit us, when it hit _me_, I was so shocked that I made the word 'Oh' into a much longer one. For awhile. I could hear her thoughts. Without aid of magic. Or at least intentional magic. I could _hear_ her thoughts. This had to be one of the strangest occurences in my natural born life, despite the fact that it had been mentioned in the male papers. Sure it was supposed to happen but I hadn't given it any thought. And now it had happened, and here I was holding her hand half an hour later and still not used to the fact. How come I hadn't been able to figure out? When I closed my eyes, it was as obvious as a flashlight in the dark. She was there, in there somewhere, not even at the back of my mind but mixed up in the middle of it. When I really thought about it, I supposed she was so a part of me that I hadn't ever differentiated between her and myself. In my mind. This was too confusing for words-

But I digress.

Luna Lovegood was acting differently today. And it had started this morning, after the waking up. After we'd walked down stairs. I could even pin it down to the moment - after she'd found out that I was helping Mr. Lovegood with the wand project. She'd looked at me for a long while, as if she wasn't quite sure who she was looking at, and if she wasn't sure that what she was looking at was real. It had been one of the most disconcerting moments of my week. When Luna pinned the force of her ethereal gaze on a person, it made him feel like she would look right down to the heart of him. And although I'm sure that the heart of me is a pretty good one (or at least I'd like to think so) it was _Luna_ and what she thought was extremely important so this old heart of mine quivered a little bit. She gazed for so long that I had the urge to laugh nervously but then the expression melted into something so soft that I found myself blinking. And saying her name. Not to check if she was okay but because the look on her face made me want to say it. She'd blinked slowly and said something to her father, before turning away.

_W-what...?_

Only after her looking away did I have the presence of mind to be concerned. I'd pulled her outside after saying our goodbyes, had gotten close enough to actually ask, and had been rewarded with...

A hug. A brilliant smile and a hug.

Luna Lovegood wasn't so much of a 'hugger'. In fact, it was usually me pulling her in by the arm, by the waist, by the _leg_, by pretty much whatever body part I could grab ahold of for bodily contact. And though this new state of affairs, betrothed-er...ness(?) allowed me more leeway to do so, she wasn't as much of a hugger as I was. And so, when she gazed at me with the same 'Who is this person standing in front of me?' look in her eyes, then smiled a smile that made me feel about a hundred meters tall? Before I could begin to grin back, I felt a slight flare....like, like a flame - or perhaps, no a lamp brightening in my mind...and Luna's arms were around my shoulders and she was hugging me.

A brilliant hug, and a rare smile.

I had no idea what I'd done to make her respond to me like that but I needed to find out what the hell it was so I could _do it again_. Soon. Maybe twice a day for the next month...or the forseeable future.

"I don't remember this pathway being here," the girl in question said, head bent as she picked her way. She had this thing about never stepping on the edges of stones, or over cracks, if she could help it. She usually didn't think about it too much but today seemed to be one of those days. She held my hand tightly as she swept her skirt out of the way and hopped. I couldn't help but laugh - it looked like something the twins would do given time alone.

"Oh, it was here but we didn't come through this way." I waved my hand to the left. "I took you guys in through the side door."

She looked up with a msichievous grin... more surprises today, open mischief versus the veiled mischief she usually displayed? "Does it lead through the kitchen?"

I scoffed. "Well-"

"I see."

She let go of my hand (and apparently let go of her thing with stones too) and walked backwards looking even more mischievous. Or not mischievous...not really. More like...

Like...

_Flirty._

I pulled up short as I stared at her, that small smile playing about her lips, her hair doing all sorts of interesting things with the win across her face, and _actually_ felt my jaw drop. She was not even trying to flirt, was she? I mean, not that she wasn't capable of it although I didn't think she was at all, but I really just...Who...what universe...? And then of course, said universe was joining in, and her bright blue skirt was blowing around her knees, making her laugh a little, making her glow. She was probably just being msichievous and happy and the combination hit me in a way that reminded me of the first time I'd ever seen Lavender Brown. The shock was so strong that the whisper of pain that usually accompanied her name in my head was unnoticed. No. In the face of Luna looking so damned flirtatious, **everything** faded.

"Are you going to stand there looking affronted or follow me up?"

But...damned if I could speak! Even as I stood there knowing I probably looked like an idiot, I couldn't actually shut my mouth and shrug this off. Was she flirting? Was she actually flirting, with purposeful meaningful 'Come here and play' intent? Could God have blessed me with something this rare? Probably not. I managed to clamp my mouth closed but that was about the most I could do. She smiled secretively (secretively? coyly? could it really not be wishful thinking on my part?!) and turned to move away. No response. Just cleared my throat and slowly followed her up, watching the way her skirt moved, the way her hips moved. I couldn't stop staring. I mean, since it was an alternate universe, I couldn't possibly be wrong for watching her this way.

"I _am_ going the right way, aren't I?"

"Ah...yes." I cleared my throat again. "Yes, you are."

The look she sent me over her shoulders was **_not_** in any way helpful at all. At all. And such a knowing look it seemed.

"Just-er...follow the path right up to the door."

"Why are you walking so slowly?"

"No reason." _Just that I have this overwhelming need to watch you from behind. And perhaps get my brain back into gear._ "Must be feeling a little slow on my feet today."

She stopped, turned fully, face creased a little in concern.

"You sure you're alright?"

I smiled.

"Why is that such a common question today?"

She smiled back.

"Something in the water, perhaps?"

"Your favorite response." She held out a hand that I had half a mind not to take so I could continue to watch her. But, of course, I'd rather be holding her hand than not, so I took it. Of course.

"It's the best ambigous response," she said seriously as she turned to me. "And it is perfectly normal. Besides, more often than not there _is_ something in the water, that either makes people quack like ducks or breathe fire over-"

Before she could give me a lecture on some heretofore unknown creature that _could_ make me quack like a duck or breathe fire or go potty on the spot or something equally as strange and horrifying, I decided on doing something extremely distracting. That would let me touch her _and_ make her stop talking.

_Think fast - _

I thought it and saw her face change as she looked at me funnily, understood that she'd somehow heard the thought but had no real idea what I was talking about before I attacked her.

"Dean!"

She looked caught somewhere in between humour and horrified surprised, before her face finally collapsed into laughter. I grinned and continued to tickle her as she tried to turn and continue running up the path. No such luck - I wasn't a giant for nothing, after all, and all it took was three big steps before I'd picked her up.

"Dean! Stop!"

Still grinning, I swung her up.

"Or what?"

Now she was gasping for air. Ah, the inner mischief maker rejoiced.

"Dean!"

"Luna!" I mimicked her. I pretended I was going to drop her, just to get a scream out of her, then started laughing uproariously when she _actually_ screamed. She shoved at my chest which only made me laugh until tears were brimming in my eyes. By the time I could get myself under control she was trying her very best to glare at me. And failing, because underneath the glare I could see the begins of one of Luna's more rare smiles.

"I would never let you fall, you ninny," I said, still smiling. I ducker her under the chin (she was light - it really wasn't anything to hold her with one arm) before I pretended to drop her again. She didn't start this time. "See? You believe me."

The look she gave me was like the one she'd given me in her father's study. This time I asked-

"What?"

"I do think I believe you."

I blinked. Such a Luna move, to switch the subject. But...I smiled.

"I know." I let her slide down, slowly, chest to chest, and I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy the contact. Or the way her lips parted in a way that told me she might have an idea as to why I was smiling down at her. "I know."

She looked speechless at that. Which was just so odd that I laughed again, took her hand, and lead her up the rest of the path. It never occurred to me to look past the speechlessness, to peer under the layers of Luna Lovegood, because it never occurred to me that she might keep something from me. Even with her acting so different, it didn't occur to me to look deeper. Because she was always as she had been, if only happier today. Or at least that's what I kept telling myself.

The blindness of it all would hit me later. But for now, I reveled in this new Luna, at this new _look_ at Luna. And didn't worry about what would come after.

/-|-\

This place was so much warmer than I'd remembered it to be, the Thomas home. I had a head for detail, I'll acknowledge, but it must have escaped me how much warmth was to be found in this house. From the moment Angela Thomas had appeared on the doorstep with a secret smile she shared with her son, to Naira's rambunctious greeting and Adrienne's shy one, to the adorable twins, I was enveloped in warmth. I watched as he was enveloped by the rest of them - little Sophie and Sammie fairly bumbling into his legs, Adrienne holding his hand, Naira punching him in the arm after he said something (what on earth had he said to her?) then allowing herself to be drawn into a three-way hug with their mother. Warmth. His family was just like him, was an extension of him, _was_ him.

Dean Thomas, family man.

The revelations were surprising me this morning. They truly were.

"Dean tells us you're taking over _The Quibbler_ after graduation." Nai leaned back in her chair, a top-class balancing act that had me worried that she would topple over at any moment. She bit into her apple and surveyed me over it. "True?"

I nodded. "Not so much taking it over but fully emerging myself." I thought for a moment. "It's where I want to be, at the end of it all."

"That's nice," said Adrienne wistfully. Everytime I looked at her, I felt like I was seeing an extremely shy female version of Dean. Her eyes were just as wistful as her voice but she smiled at me. "How nice to know where you ought to be."

"I was lucky, I think," I said thoughtfully. It was, actually. I had a feeling that everyone I knew was rather outside the norm: most of us had picked vocations that matched seemlessly with our personalities, and where Harry and Ron were still trying to figure that out...they would. Before the year was out, really. It just seemed like Adrienne was still trying to figure that out. "In any case, I always knew I was going to join up. And I'd always wanted to."

"Besides," Dean broke in with a twinkle in his eyes, "it'll leave your Dad so _much_ more time to devote to his studies."

"Dean says they're a tad bit dangerous," remarked Mrs. Thomas with a small smile.

If I were the kind of girl who snorted, I would have.

"I don't _know_ about that," I responded lightly instead. "I would not put any emphasis on the 'tad' and much more on 'dangerous'."

She laughed and turned to her son. "I like her."

Dean looked at her then looked back at me with a grin on his face. "I do too."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. _Good._ I'd been worried about her.

"The summer's almost halfway over," said Adrienne quietly. I turned to her as Dean and his mother turned at some commotion that the twins were making behind us on the living room floor. "It's hard to believe that it's going by so quickly."

"Are you excited to be returning to school?" I asked. She gazed at me, then gave her brother a long brooding look, then gazed at me again then looked down at her lap. Which I could only surmise to be a sufficient negative response to my question.

"I take it that you're not then," I said curiously. She didn't have to nod for me to understand her. I reckoned it would be difficult for her - the first time being on her own without a sibling in Hogwarts. If I hadn't been so self-sufficient, and had had a beloved older brother at Hogwarts, I could understand it. But...

"Are you ready?" I asked steadily. Her eyes flew to my face. Startled. Uncertain. And a little bit scared. But it was a question that she'd need to answer before too long. Better now than never, really.

"Are you?"

After a long pause, she finally lifted her gaze to my face and I was surprised at how steady she looked

"I don't think so."

I offered her a half-smile. "You will be."

"Yeah?"

I nodded and a slow smile lit up her face, making her look every inch Angela Thomas' daughter and Dean Thomas' little sister. I smiled back t

"Oi," called said brother. Even though he was right at the table with us, and didn't need to be

I immediately volunteered to be his hunting partner, much to the surprise of his mum, and before long we were traipsing through the house looking for the two little troublemakers (who might not have even been in the house, as I pointed out to a very dismayed Dean after learning that they'd taken to displaying magic rather early) and calling their names as loud as possible. Through the living room and the other front rooms, we reached the back of the Thomas home without mishap.

"Are they always like this?"

He looked down at me with a half-smile. "Yes. And they've always been like this."

I looked at that half-smile and felt myself drifting back to the past year. Dean had talked about them so much to all of us that I'd felt as if I'd known the entire family before I'd had cause to meet them. I'd been half-expecting to know me just as well in return and hadn't been entirely dissapointed. It was clear when Dean talked about them...that his family was special to him. Perhaps, the very best part of him because he loved them so very much. Sometimes, it had me looking at him and wondering what he would have been like if they hadn't been there first to expand his heart. And perhaps, what I would have been like with a large close family like this too. I couldn't even fathom it - Daddy and _The Quibbler_ and mother's garden and my sunroom had been more than some people have (and I always thought of Neville when thinking this) and more than I probably deserved. But...

_Sometimes, I wonder._

_"_Wonder what?"

I looked up, startled. Dean immediately realized his mistake.

"Sorry about that," he said, looking sufficently chagrined. "Sorry. I'd been slipping on the mind control. It has felt rather natural all-day, eh?"

I nodded. "Strange that we'd take to it so naturally."

"That thought was really loud though." He looked at me curiously. "Wonder what?"

I weighed the words before I said them.

"How different I would have been had I been raised in a family like you and Gin."

"Well, it's not always all that it's cracked up to be," he replied. I didn't miss the wry note in his voice. When he gestured around us, I assumed he was calling looking for the twins one of those times. But he was smiling as he said it. "But I like you the way you are. I couldn't imagine any other kind of Luna Lovegood to know."

I hid a small smile as I turned to check the room on my left. What a perfectly 'Dean Thomas'-like thing to say. If I could-

"Hey!"

I turned around, poked my head in the room to see Dean motioning towards me, with a finger to his lips for silence. Which probably meant-

"Got you!" There was a squeal and really quick movement and then Dean wasn't standing anymore but on the floor underneath the wait of his two mischievous little siblings. I stood at the door, astonished, then amused (how on earth could such little things take down a giant? I'd like to learn that spell!) then before I knew it I was leaning against the door and laughing in a way that I hadn't in quite a while.

"Got who? You little-"

Determination masked his face as he reached for Sophie and Sammie at the same time, then flipped over, somehow keeping them from hitting the floor to roughly. Now the attackers were the victims, so much giggling and squealing so much that I laughed even harder, watching as he tickled them, watching him because he was lovely to watch, because I loved watching him almost as much as I loved h-

_Wait. _

I wasn't consciously aware of the laughter stopping, of my body tilting to lean more heavily against the door. _Wait. _No, no, no, why on earth was my mind speeding ahead to a conclusion before I was ready? _Wait. Please..._My mind did not want to listen - it wanted to keep traveling on this track until it reached the final destination. And all I could do is stand frozen as his face was turning towards me, he was still laughing at being tackled by Sophie, he was still laughing at being around his family, he was still laughing. And I was watching, with my mind hurtling forward to the thing that had been lurking the back of my head for the last week. To what I had been convinced was not a reality or a truth. To the thing that made it hard to breathe sometimes, made it difficult to stand straight and look him in the eyes about a quarter of the time I was around him in these past weeks. To what it felt like to watch him with his family, watch him with our friends, then distractedly watch him with me. To the thing that made me half-gasp when he was looking at me, smiling, and holding a hand forward. If I could have stopped time then, I would have. Because this was the last conclusion on earth that I'd wanted to come to. The very last.

_Oh heavens above, it can't be..._

I was in love with him.

The air left my body in a rush as a stared at that outstretched hand. Not a gasp...because didn't I tell you that I never gasped? Hadn't I said that I was never so shocked that I was moved to exhale in a loud enough manner to be qualified as a 'gasp'? No. No. I stared unseeing but I did not gasp. Because, of course, I would have picked this method to most effectively complicate my own life. Because, of course, this falling thing had happened _despite_ the fact that I hadn't been looking for it. Because, of course, I'd chosen today (the day our minds merged, the day he'd won me over with Daddy, the day we'd gone to visit his family) to be a ninny and figure out my feelings. _No, no, no._ But...of course. What had Ginny said a week ago? About cutting myself off from it? I guess hadn't cut myself off enough.

I was in love with Dean Thomas...and I was in a boatload of trouble.


	5. RoseColoured Glasses

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes - It's that time of year again - Dramoine Awards! Whoever nominated _Rainbow_ for Best Romance of 2009-2010, I thank you ohsoverymuch for that. I also encourage you all to check out the site on livejournal and read some good Dramoine stuff according to category. Re-nominate Rainbow next year for Best Romance too! Delete the spaces. http:/ community. livejournal. com/dramione_awards/43232. html#cutid1**

**Okay, enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Rose-Coloured Glasses

_I swear, I'm out to sabotoge myself sometimes. - Hermione muttering to Ginny & Luna, in the Great Hall, first morning of final exam week Sixth Year._

* * *

It was just like the old-fashioned movie reels that Hermione showed me almost a year ago, the kind of black film that spins outwards and onwards and just keeps going endlessly until your arms are tired of yanking and you're completely fed up with it. All of it. Because the plastic spool isn't even fully unwinded, and you're sitting in a pool of black that makes it as hard to unentangle yourself as it is to put it in order. But you keep pulling even after it frustrates you because you want to get to the end of that heaven-forsaken thing and be done with the pulling and the yanking so that perhaps you can watch the damned movie and make sense of what you're supposed to be seeing.

Forgive me for my rant but-

That's what reliving my realization was becoming: a tedious, endless exercise in how to frustrate, mortify, and humiliate myself.

How I'd managed to get out of his house without the realization coming across the bond, I could never explain. I must have been normal enough to get through playing with the twins, watching Nai clean her instruments and chatting with Mrs. Thomas, for it to slip right by Dean. I'm very good at being unreadable and where I'd always thought it was a reason for the lack of friendships, I couldn't help but be grateful now in the face of this unforeseen complication. Good, great, I'd gotten out of the Thomas home in one piece without my heart bleeding through my shirt. But once home, I had gone straight to my garden for some well-needed alone time. Which turned out to be exactly what I didn't need. I couldn't concentrate enough to care well for my beloved flowers, but sat in the dirt and stared into space for over five hours. Five hours of alone time. One would think that I'd be inclined to run to the Burrow for refuge and advice but God knows that friends are always out to perpetuate what they think the issue is and seeing as the friends were best friends with _him _and thus biased in his favor (as well as mine which didn't make for any sort of prediction as to what they would say!) I couldn't exactly run there because...well, no. Talk was also exactly what I didn't need.

So, of course, gardening left me with a sense of discontent, as did the spot of tea I had after that instead of breakfast because Merlin knows that appetite was the very last thing on my mind. After looking on Daddy and making sure he was both alive and hungry, which lead me to the kitchen where I had reminders of Dean everywhere (where hadn't he put his stamp in my home?)...I did not need a reminder. And then out of the kitchen, and into Mummy's room to think. Which of course led me to wish that we had a portrait of her so I wouldn't miss her so very terribly at this moment, when I needed advice or _something_ from someone who didn't know him but knew me. And now, the next day, the conundrum remained. I had nothing to help me with this situation. What I needed was to figure out how I'd gotten to this place, then figure out how I could reverse the carpet and park elsewhere. Or perhaps descend from the tree that I had barked up, or get out of the kitchen before I destroyed it terribly, or get off the broom without crashing on the ground below. Or take out the weeds without the gardener being any the wiser that there had been weeds in the first place. Or...or...or-

I slammed my hand against my pillow.

Because I hadn't had a wink of sleep last night - not even a bit. Kit had given up on my constant movement all-night and left the room on his own. Volunteering at _The Quibbler_ this afternoon would make the day even longer than it was supposed to be. It was already ten o'clock and I'd meant to get moving two hours earlier than this. And I'd left my phone somewhere downstairs in the midst of all the turmoil and heaven knew that something had probably happened last night that needed dealing with. Which meant I should get up.

And not ramble in my own head.

And perhaps get my life together in the face of this new reality.

_Yes,_ I thought to myself, pushing a hand through my hair then pushing myself upright. Eyes closed, head back. _That's what I'll do._

"This is certainly not where I'd expected to find you so late in the morning."

The unexpected sound of Dean's voice had me snapping my head forward so fast that I thought I'd accidentally sprained something. It also had me slamming down mental barriers so quickly that my head must have snapped back even farther. I was fully clothed but I found myself reaching for the blanket and pulling it upwards before I could look him in the eyes. Which was extremely ludicrous because I was fully dressed, in fact fully covered from neck to ankles in my standard long nightgown, but I still needed that blanket to be a protective shield between him and I. Have I mentioned that I was fully dressed but still felt at a _disadvantage_?

Looking at him was a mistake because he filled the doorway in a manner that made that now-recognized long-familiar ache in my chest return. Now that I knew what the ache signified, it hurt even more. Which was ludicrous. Everything this morning was ludicrous. This day was gearing up to be a day _full_ of the word 'ludicrous'. I drank the sight of him in as if I hadn't seen him yesterday. He looked as he'd always looked, except..._more._ I think it's because I was primed to notice more than the usual today, that it was crystal clear to me just how broad his shoulders and long his legs were, the way he liked to cross his ankles even when standing. He looked fresh, as if he'd just left the bath to come here, and the freshness made his usual good-looks even more apparent.

Which did absolutely _nothing_ for my poor heart.

He ambled through the door like he owned the place, like he belonged here. Kit ambled in behind him, twining about his legs until Dean bent to pick him up. As he stroked the cat, he looked at me.

"Are you going to sit and stare, sleeping beauty, or say hello?"

It was nothing more than the way he usually talked to me, the things he always called me, but it was like submerging me in warm water. Or perhaps a wave. Something liquid and flowing and very warm that I nearly succumbed to thinking something sappy and over the top. It was the melting feeling that put me on edge. When he made for the bed, I had another mini-heart palpitation.

_I don't want him anywhere near me. _

Heaven help me but I was shocked at the thought. There'd never been a time when I hadn't liked being with Dean. But this little 'love' bit was throwing a wrench in my psyche. No way could I handle him being this close to me on a bed. Merlin forbid that another 'I'll carry you to the bath' scene unfolded - I was going to save myself the trouble altogether. Before he could say a word or get to the bed, I was rolling up and out and trying not to break into a flat-out jog to the room in question.

"Give me half an hour, alright?" I tossed over my shoulder without looking. "I'll be done by then."

_Right. _I didn't wait to hear him he reply, didn't look over my shoulder to see what he was up to should hold him off and give me time. Time to what, you might ask? Time to ruminate upon my problem some more.

...

_Right._ Which was, like I've said, not such a good idea.

Needless to say, by the time bath was over, I was reduced to figuring out ways to put up a more effective mental wall. This would be the kind of wall that allowed for no slippage, even accidentally. What with this magic that the Ministry had implemented...heavens only knew what sort of backlash I could get into with errant thoughts. No. That was indeed not the plan. I'd have to pen Hermione a letter to ask her to look into it, then pen Hannah right after to see if she'd come up with a way to combat it as well. If she'd even had it. Because-

_No one is as close to theirs as I am...except for Ginny._

And for reasons unfathomable, I didn't want to talk to Gin about it.

"Fine," I said aloud, getting out of the bath. There was nothing like depending on yourself when times got difficult or strange. Or both. The best I could hope for was Hermione's information on the bond, then the Dean Thomas was too blind to see me. Mental dialogue would be confined to the bare minimum, if at all. That was the top priority - keeping things normal so he would _never _find out. Drying off with a quick spell, I opened the door a crack and peered out. The boy was smart - no longer in the room so I could get dressed. But there was a sheet of parchment on the bed.

"Let's stay in all day at my place. Checking on your Dad. Come down soon."

I blinked. This had 'danger' written all over it but...but if I could get through being alone with him for the day, I could get through everything else Providence wanted to throw at me. A test of sorts, you see. I would not fail this one. If he had his way, we'd be sitting in front of the telly all day so there was no need to wear anything special. This called for a baggy tee long enough to be a dress and leggings. Never mind that I put on a little extra scent, that I made sure my hair was a little bit wavy. No such thing as wanting to look good in front of him: I just wanted to be comfortable.

Being in love with him changed nothing.

_Being in love with him changes nothing at all._

I repeated it to myself as I pushed the door open, walked slowly through the Sun Room, walked down the stairs. When the smell of breakfast hit me midway down the stairs, the words slowed down to an occasional mental mutter. I smiled to myself, though - 'checking on your Dad' now included making breakfast for the Lovegood household. At least he wasn't relegated to the task of handling household chores - though I couldn't cook to save a life, cleaning was fairly easy and even a little bit enjoyable for me. I may be forgetful and a tad bit messy but I am _always_ clean.

"Dean?" I called as I padded across the living room. "Are you down here?"

No audible sound but then in my head-

**_Kitchen._**

He poked his head out to prove his point, and I was slapped again with the newness of consciously recognizing him as good looking. And hearing him inside my head. I'd have to discourage that altogether, if I could. He smiled and retreated. I took a deep breath and walked as if putting one foot in front of the other was the most normal and unplanned movement in the world. Normal and unplanned, that was me today. I would be normal. And completely myself because, like I'd said, being in love with Dean Thomas would change nothing between us. By the time, I proceeded into the kitchen (in a very normal and unplanned manner, mind you) Dean was almost done with the kippers. He was singing out loud, a nice deep tenor that bordered on baritone, a smile on his face as he reached to his right to get a set of plates from a cupboard.

"I thought you would never finish your bath," he said, shooting me another smile before he maneuvered the breakfast unto plates. "What do you want to do today?"

"Wasn't lazing about your offer?" I crossed my arms and watched him.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted to do but I needed a break from studying." He stood back and let magic levitate the dishes out of the kitchen, and presumably, to Daddy's study. I would never understand how Dean had mastered spells the likes of which I'd only ever seen Mrs. Weasley use regularly. He wasn't even looking to see the plates and pumpkin juice arrived safely at their destination. He wiped his hands on his trousers, and with a flick of his wand, set the two pots and pan to cleaning themselves in the sink.

"That and I needed to see you again, seeing as how your face is one of my most favorite faces in the world."

He said it so factually, so _non_ cheek-in-tongue, that I blinked before my brain really absorbed the words. In Merlin's name, he hadn't even been looking at me when he said it but boy was he smiling a very small private smile at me now. Had he said this a week ago, the words would have been received with the pure pleasure that comes with platonic friendship. Sadly, this wasn't the Luna Lovegood of a week ago. This was the Luna Lovegood of today. All the girlishness that had escaped me in the years before - I could see that it was all coming back now, just in time for me to make a fool out of myself in front of the one man I couldn't bear to look idiotic to.

Just when I was getting ready to say something fitting in response, Dean clapped his hands.

"Well, that's that." I wrinkled my brow in confusion before I realized that he was speaking of breakfast. And then stared at him some more, since clearly he had no idea that he had just rocked the foundations of my now-fragile world. "I don't think you need anything, do you? So shall we get going?"

I blinked. He grinned, that personal little grin he seemed to always save for me, and extended a hand to me.

"Well? Shall we?"

I blinked a few more times in the course of a single second before realizing that the key to acting normal was to _actually_ act normal so that he wouldn't catch on. I stopped myself from squaring my shoulders (Dean was far too good at reading body language and I had to be completely natural) and took his hand firmly, then smiled brightly to cover up my previous lapse. If he pushed then I would blame it on my inaptitude in the mornings - low blood pressure and what have you not.

"We certainly shall." I pulled him over to the fireplace.

In no time, we had Floo'd ourselves into his apartment. He flipped the light switches in the place, then dimmed them to a low comfortable setting that made the rain outside seem homey instead of cold.

"Movies? Or telly?"

"Telly?" I said, automatically. I was curled into the couch, around all the pillows on the left side of the thing. "Perhaps looking for a movie on the telly?"

He laughed as he made his way back to the couch. I talked myself out of stiffening as he dropped next to me like a stone then was distracted by the yawn that I'd been battling all morning.

"Oi, pillow please." I moved a single pillow from my pile. He gave me an amused look. "You're hoarding those?"

"Just in case I fall asleep, which is looking more and more likely."

"Sleeping beauty is certainly your name." He grinned, handed me the remote control, and nudged me in the side. "Move over a bit."

When I did, he maneuvered himself expertly and quickly between the couch and my body. So fast that I hadn't had time to react before I found the back of me melded to the front of him. To say that I was shocked would have been an understatement. All those other things that we'd done before - the hand holding, the hugging, the falling asleep together at his place or mine - were normal within the confines of friendship. This shouldn't have been so far out of the scope of experience but by Merlin I wanted to simultaneously leap off the sofa and curl into him. Which made me stiffen noticeably. Which was not a good thing since he would notice right away. Or not...since I could feel him breathe deeply behind me, though he made no move to sling an arm around me.

Strange. Now we were 'spooning' without really 'spooning.'

"You alright, Lune?"

His voice was low and familiar, and it rumbled right through me. I would like to claim that I did not melt at this point, well not 'melt' exactly anyway, but my body was far looser than it had been before he'd spoken. I tried to marshall myself into being suitable blase about the situation before responding.

"Fine." I hoped I'd aimed for airy instead of breathless. I took a deep breath and flipped through the channels, looking for something to watch. Sadly, the world was not on my side today. Three times the channel we landed on had something to do with a man, a woman, and some sort of hard surface upon which were the man and woman. Be it a wall or a bed or a kitchen table.

I cleared my throat as best as I could and settled on something that looked vaguely unthreatening.

"A documentary?" His voice was so much of a question that I ended up tilting my head back to look at him. Bad idea. He was so much more attractive when he was right in my face. "I thought you wanted a movie."

"A-ah, yes." I cleared my throat again and tried to relax...again. "This looks interesting."

"The lives of tortoises?" Now he looked down-right dubious. I started to laugh at his expression and he talked right over the laughter. "I, for one, am not going to enjoy learning about tortoises. I know everything I need to know about them at the moment."

"Fine." Still laughing, I handed the remote to him. He took it, pretending to be miffed, so I ended up laughing a little bit more.

"You must be in a good mood today," he said, dropping the mock anger. I knew I was in danger of seeing him smile so I turned back to the TV, snickering every now and then. Even without seeing his face, I knew he was smiling as he flipped the channels. Football (and not a game including West Ham, sadly) was on, and since I knew how much he loved to watch it, I told him it would be alright to watch the litte left of the game. While he crowed behind me, I got aquainted with my new reality.

I was in love with Dean Thomas. I was also very close to Dean Thomas. I was supposed to be meant for Dean Thomas but we'd already made a pact to remain friends at the start of this thing. So, to survive my unfortunate timing, my plan was to remain normal around him. The trick was this - he was so familiar that it wouldn't be too difficult to be unchanged but things like this - physical closeness, the things he said to me that could make me blush...now _that_ would take some mental toughness to get through. I frowned a little because my mental toughness now included the capacity to keep my barrier in check at all times. Last night, I'd thought of how strange it was that I'd taken to it so quickly. I could feel him in my head - it felt as if he were a shoot in the soil of my thoughts. I had a feeling that if I probed the plant, cupped it in my hands, it would bend for me. But I had no way of knowing what else it - he - would or could do. And I didn't want to risk finding out in case I gave myself away.

"That freaking goalie," Dean muttered somewhere above my head. "Well, at least West Ham is still in the running."

I smiled to myself a little...see, that was the kind of thing that kept reminding me that Dean was still himself. He was as I'd always known him to be, nothing dark, nothing twisted, nothing mysterious. Charming, honest, kind to a fault. I just knew that if I could just focus on the things I'd always known, instead of the newness of what I was now noticing, then I could exclude my feelings entirely.

I checked back just in time to hear Dean start humming something that sounded an awful lot like the word 'movie'. He must have noticed me smiling about because he stopped humming only to hum right into my ear. I laughed aloud and thought-

_Focusing. Focusing can work for the exclusion of everything else. _

I focused so hard on the old that I didn't notice the new - when Dean finally curled his arm around my waist like he was meant to take up that space.

/-|-\

"Okay, twice is really not an accident."

Harry, the rank bastard, was taking off at the speed of light again. This time? He'd walked into the apartment with Ginny (who had been suspiciously silent all night about it) to find Luna and I fast asleep on the couch. He was talking while buttering croissants that Fleur had sent over via Ron earlier this week, and waving the knife at key points in his monologue.

"And this time there was no 'Oh, well, you see I had to get close to blow chaff out of her eyes' to use. Nope." A little stab in the air with that knife. "Not at all, mate. Because there isn't any good reason you can offer to explain away why you were _wrapped_-" another jab- "around Luna and the two of you fast asleep."

"Before you get ahead of yourself and tell Ron and Nev that I did something somewhere with her, let me tell you that it's not like that." I reached for a croissant. "We were watching television, we got tired, we fell asleep. End of story."

_Though I wish it wasn't_. The thought caught me off guard mid-bite, though it was a fairly common thought. I'd been wanting to spend every breathing moment with Luna for some reason. Probably the bond. Probably. I pushed the thought to the back of my head.

"But, it is exactly what it looks like. Wrapped around each other? It is exactly what I think it is."

"So, how about the puppy that I'm getting?"

Harry eyed me over the table. "What about it?"

"Well, we're going out to the pound to get her tomorrow. I'm going to text you as soon as we pick so that you can start loving her too."

He smirked.

"Of course you will. Nice try, by the way. Can we get back to talking about you and Luna?

"Dean and Luna?"

I tipped back my chair to see Gin padding down the hallway from Harry's set of rooms. Of course she'd reinsert herself into the conversation within minutes of entering the living room.

"Please tell your boyfriend that he's wrong," I pleaded around another mouthful of pastry.

"Harry?" I resisted ribbing her with a duh-Harry look. She propped herself unto the stool next to me, then propped her arms up on the island counter. "He's almost never wrong, these days."

I rolled my eyes when Harry shot me a triumphant look but was distracted when I turned back to Gin. She was regarding me with the most curious look on her face - serious, appraising, like I was someone entirely new to her. What was it about me that females kept turning that look on me this week?

"What?"

She gazed at me for a moment longer then shrugged her shoulders.

"Nothing."

_Nothing?_ I blinked and slowly finished off my croissant. The look on her face disagreed very much - and the look on her face said that even if she didn't say it now, it would come up later. It also reminded me of a girl I never failed to think about everyday..._Lavender._ She used to look at Seamus the exact same way when he'd done something she didn't like, as if by sticking her nose in the air my best mate would repent at her feet. I used to laugh whenever it happened, knowing that I was going to be audience to either a row or something disgustingly couple-like which would end in snogging. I stopped at the picture in my mind of the two of them laughing together, heads bent together. Dark and light together.

Just stopped the memories. Then I looked away, hiding it behind something else.

"Alright," I said outloud. Ginny's look had changed altogether and I was keen to distract her. Stopping the memories was enough to put it away for a few hours. "Arright. But Harry, if you could not be a gossiping housewife, that would be very appreciated."

"Shall I cross my heart and hope to die?" he asked. I punched him in the shoulder automatically, and was satisfied when he winced and wheeled backwards.

"You do what you have to, mate, to make sure that you keep it to yourself."

When he nodded and turned to Gin about something or other, I mentally checked out of the conversation. Luna Lovegood was always on my mind now, always, and I could feel her in the middle of it too. A breath of fresh air, a wind blowing my thoughts around and about every few minutes. I couldn't believe that it hadn't always been like this - had we really been best mates before? Because it seemed that we were the very definition of the phrase now.

Yesterday had been comfortable but different. She'd been mostly the same, but I coould see the edges of that new Luna I'd seen at my Mum's home. Only the edges though. I'd found myself wishing that she would let that side completely out. What I hoped for I couldn't put into words - a chance to know this version of her too? I knew so much already but Luna was constantly reminding me that you can never completely know a person. They can never cease to amaze or surprise you. There was always something else, some depth that we hadn't plumbed, some topic that we hadn't ever discussed before, some new spin on an issue that we had debated already.

The Ministry's sneaky little law had granted me this and I was thankful.

"Dean, you know where she is?"

"What?" I checked back in. "Where who is?"

"Your girlfriend."

I glared at Harry before correcting him. "My best mate?"

"If that's what they're calling it these days," he shot back with a tilt of his head. "Where is she?"

She was out at lunch with Hannah at the moment. _Or,_ I thought looking at the clock on the far wall, _she should be._ I hadn't gotten a voice message from her yet but I wasn't worried. I could feel her in me. Nothing could be wrong - it was a steady beat.

"Out to lunch with Hannah Abbott." I glanced at the wall again then looked back at him. I didn't know how much he knew about that situation but he knew enough.

Hannah had petitioned for a change in betrothed and failed. The Ministry was not recanting the law, and they weren't recanting their choice of husband. Luna had told me that the letter had been adamant on both counts, and asked that she "understand the situation" and "look at him in a different light". Hannah didn't know that Luna knew, and I doubt she wanted anyone to know who'd killed Alfie, so I don't think she included that bit of info in her letter. But, God above...I'd choked on air when I'd heard it (can you imagine? this law being forced down your throat and now the bitter after-pill of "please understand and deal with it"?) and Luna had looked incredibly sad. As she should be since the Ministry had now made very sure that Hannah Abbot was not in for an easy life. Not by a long shot.

Harry's face was suddenly somber, reminding me that the post-War Harry Potter was capable of much deeper moods than before. Better to stave that mood swing off. I waved a hand and smiled airily enough.

"Who knows how long that'll take? I'm sure Luna will come back soon."

"You say that as if she lives here." His smile was more of a leer than anything else. "But then again, she practically does."

"Oh, shut up!" I rolled my eyes. If I'd had something to throw at him, I would have. Too bad magic was off-limits in the apartment or I would have shut his trap for him. The little snot.

I stood up and dusted my hands on the kitchenette towel, then thought better of it. I was going to grab the last two croissants on my way out anyway. I think the thought hit Harry at the same time because we ended up grabbing for the remaining two at the same time. I crowed when I got them both, then as revenge, polished one off right in front of him.

"Seriously?"

"Don't ever underestimate me, Potter." I grinned widely and made smacking noises. "Now, I'm off to the Lovegood Place. Tell Gin I said goodbye when she comes out, since I'm not going to wait."

He gave me a dirty look before taking the empty plate to dump in the sink. I smirked as I walked to the fireplace and removed a pinch of Floo powder from the jar.

"Oh, don't be bitter, dear dear friend. It's only fair."

"Yeah, yeah," he yelled. "Break a leg on the way there."

As if I could. I just laughed outloud and stepped into the fireplace.

He'd been saying that Luna practically lived at our place (which was a gross exaggeration), when in truth I really lived more at her place than mne. Now that I was dead set on helping Mr. Lovegood out with his experiments, I was actually over here 70% of the time for her and the rest for her father. We'd abandoned attacking the problem with a spell and now were going about potions to soak the wood in, instead. He usually had more than one test trial running at the same time, and usually the test trials weren't even for the same experiment. I'd had a hell of a time keeping them all straight but like father, like daughter. Chaos and disorder didn't bother Mr. Lovegood in the least.

I stepped out of their fireplace and into the premier living room, with it's sprawling comfy furniture. Books were all over the coffee table, which meant he'd already started expanding out of his lab room and into the rest of the house, which _really_ meant I was going to walk in on a work-in-progress. I started bumping into things on purpose so he'd know I was here, so he wouldn't be startled into misfiring his wand or something. It almost always worked and of course, I was rewarded with-

"Dean?"

"Just got here," I called out. I pushed the door open a little ways to see him sitting on a stool in the middle of the open space of the room. I didn't try to push any more since the ward would end up repelling me half way through the house. Like last time. When I'd opened the door and been flung back so hard that I'd made a dent in the wall. After going through about two other walls. To finally end up in the living room again. Luna, who'd been curled up with Kit on the couch reading something, had looked up with nary a gasp before asking me why I hadn't asked her father to take down his wards first. _Yes, well, I'm never going to forget again. _NHe made the clicking sound he usually made to let down the ward around the perimeter of the area,

I breathed a sigh of relief and he laughed. He knew exactly what that bloody sigh was for. My back was still aching from impact.

"How many running?"

"Three. All for wand capacity."

I shrugged out of my cloak and hung it on the cloak hooks on the back of the door, then charmed it so that it would be anti-water and anti-flame proof. Because that would have to be enough to protect it from all the things that we were going to do in here today. His tests to increase a wand's capacity to contain magic were as interesting as they had sounded in theory a week and a half ago. The problem at the start had been finding discarded wards. I had never actually thought about what happened to the wands of people who died or outgrew them, before this past year. But-

_Lavender...Seamus. _

It hadn't gotten much easier in these past few months. The most random things would trigger this landslide of emotion. A few weeks ago, I'd been walking down a Muggle block in London, shopping for something for the twins, when I'd bumped into a man with the exact same build as Seamus. It had been startling. Well...no. Startling doesn't cover how I felt. It'd been a bucket of icy cold water in the face. Had the same effect too - I'd been choking on air in the middle of street before the guy helped me to my feet and asked me if I was alright. Something similar happened with a young girl with the same thick dark chestnut hair that Lavender had - except I'd ended up flagging the poor girl down before I'd gotten to my senses. As I stood in the room while Mr. Lovegood prepped the work bench, I didn't try to stop it. Memories of the two that had been taken from me unfurled in my brain, the first time I'd met Seamus and how we'd instantly hit it off, looking at Lavender in Potions First Year, snickering over magazines that summer at his grandparents house, breakfast in the dining hall after Third Year final exams, his face after their first date, her face after I'd teased her about it. Weird things and little things and things I'd thought I'd bloody well forgotten. I let the grief wash through me even though it would be harder to check once released. And it washed right through me completely.

_**Dean?**_ My head snapped back on my spine in shock. _**Dean? Where are you? What's wrong? Are you alright?**_

Luna was in my head. It was like she was standing next to me. Could hear her so clearly and her voice pushed the memories aside.

_I-_ I felt a shift that didn't come from me, then a feeling as if something had popped and pressure had been released. Before I could even begin to think about what the hell that might mean, Luna's voice intruded again.

**_I'm sorry._** She sounded contrite and a little sad. I was confused. **_But you miss them, don't you?_**

Oh.

_You read me so well,_ I thought back when I could marshall a though together. I wasn't surprised that she would understand but she'd gotten it so quickly. Then again, if she could feel anything that I was feeling at his moment, it would be immediately recognizable as grief. I missed them. I missed them more all the time. _I'm sorry that happened and I'm at your home. Was it that distracting? __Don't-_

_**Worry about it?**_ This time her thought sounded faintly amused, as if she'd known exactly what was coming. Which she probably had. It softened me, helped the grief wash out a bit. She made a humming sound that sounded like she was teasing more than anything else. **_That's not something I can do, even for you, Dean. _**

**_I'll worry up until I'm standing in front of you, and perhaps even afer that. So you sit and wait and I will be there in a little while._**

The thought was gentle. It felt like she was stroking my face, though she'd never done anything like that. But that's what the tinge of her thoughts translated into. Her hands stroking my face, smoothing my hair. The grief washed out even more in the face of her calm.

_Yes. _

I didn't doubt that she would. She gave the impression of another feeling without thought, or at least that's what the cut-off mental communication felt like a wave, before I felt it fizzle out.

"You alright, my boy?"

Mr. Lovegood was peering at me through his lab spectacles. The bench seemingly had long since been prepped.

"Ah, yes," I said slowly. "Yes, sir. Should I start?"

I got the feeling he wanted to ask me if I were entirely certain. I wasn't. I wouldn't have known how to answer that question. After a moment, he smiled and motioned me over.

"You can start at whichever one you like."

I nodded. "Usual procedure?"

"Correct. Start any time you'd like, son. Anytime."

/-|-\

"I'm sorry," I said to the blonde witch across the dinner table. I swung the strap of my knapsack over my head and secured the buckle.

Hannah Abbott looked very business official with her neat office clothing and plain black cloak. We'd set made time to talk over lunch since it had been a little while and now I had to run off suddenly to Dean. She shook her head sympathetically.

"We had a very long lunch already." She reached out and patted my arm. "And if it's important, it's important. You head off to do what you must, alright?"

"Thank you, Hannah, really." I smiled and impulsively reached out to squeeze her arm when I stood. She scoffed and pulled me into a full-on hug. "I'll get going now, alright? I'll pen you a note tonight, most certainly."

"Go." She waved when I turned on my heel and pulled out. "Tonight then!"

I felt bad about it but even as I was turning away from her, lunch was receding and thoughts of Dean were flowing in like the tide. It had been devastaing to feel that. Mid-word, I'd literally stopped as my heart beat out of tune in my chest. A mis-step, like the organ didn't want to behave. And then the plant in my head curling in a terrible way. It was Dean. Dean. Something was wrong.

_Dean? _I flew into autodrive. Cupped the plant in my hand, spoke to it. _Dean? Where are you? What's wrong? Are you alright?_

**_I-_** His response was halted and I pressed harder. He was there but-

Memories flooded into my head. They weren't mine. They were his. They were the past. They were Lavender and Seamus. The first time he'd met the two of them separately...well, actually a lot of 'first's with them. The room swam in front of my eyes - Hannah had reached out to steady me when I lifted a hand to my temple. Everything in front of me faded in the face of the memories.

_I'm sorry._

So much. The last memory resurfaced - Dean had been looking at the two of them on a park bench somewhere. It was an unusally nice afternoon, the sun's rays in the memory were golden and made everything rosier. I couldn't see what they'd been bending over and looking at but their heads were together and their faces weren't visible. Just the image of the intertwined hair - her long auburn locks and his short dyed blonde buzz cut. He hurt. He wanted them back.

_But you miss them, don't you?_

**_You read me so well_.**

The silence had been as deep as a sigh.

**_I'm sorry that happened...I'm at your home. Was it that distracting? __Don't-_**

_Worry about it?_ Just what he would say to get me not to worry. Which was proof that I should be worried anyway, because he only ever wanted to protect me from things that he thought I needed to be protected from. I stroked the leaves of the plant that was Dean in my head. It hurt. I wanted to tease him out of it but he was closing up on me. I had to get there. I wanted to touch him somehow, to make this irregular drum beat go away. I had to be with him. _That's not something I can do, even for you, Dean. __I'll worry up until I'm standing in front of you, and perhaps even afer that. So you sit and wait and I will be there in a little while__._

I had found myself closing my eyes when something like gratitude came through the bond.

**_Yes. _**

And now here I was, hurrying out of the restaurant without a backwards glance because I had to stand in front of him and see him and touch him and know that he was capable of standing up and smiling. I think he'd never talked about the way he felt about their deaths very seriously. Boys don't talk about these things, do they? Girls, even one such as I who had been used to the loneliness of school life, preferred to deal with tragedy in a group-setting. Merlin knows that had I lost Dean and Neville in the last fews, I would have retreated back home. Back to my safe place. Back to my house with my room and my Daddy and my books and magazine for insubstantial comfort. And it made me all the sorrier because he'd been so much of a charmer that sometimes I don't think I sought below the surface.

_And it's not even unfamiliar._

His was the same thing I'd seen on the face of the survivors, the Creevey parents who had aged beyond recognition. Hannah in the stark raw sorrow the night she'd found out about Alfie. And her more concealed bitterness now, at the Ministry, at the world, at the unsuspecting Theodore Nott who hadn't the faintest clue why her hatred for him ran as naturally as the blood in her veins. That things could be this normal after a rift that had torn the wizarding world to shreds and rewritten 'normal'? If we had been less responsible individuals, the lot of us might have run ourselves hard, turned to vices that would run us so hard that we'd have all run right into the ground to escape.

Oh, Dean. There wasn't a week that went by that I didn't think of Seamus and Lavender on some level. He didn't think I noticed but he had two small photos of them (just like the memory, together, intwined) in the first drawer of his bedside table. A tiny snapshot of him and Seamus together by the Lake sometime, laughing up a storm at whomever was taken the photo, small enough to fit in his wallet.

I bumped into another person as I finally reached the access point outside of the Ministry. A moment later I was standing in front of my home, another and I was walking quickly through the house, down the stairs.

"Hello, darling."

"Hi Daddy." I smiled when he touched my hair but I was quite focused on getting to Dean. "Is he down there?"

Daddy nodded but I was already moving past him. I paused in front of the door at the bottom of the staircase then-

"Hullo," I said softly as I poked my head into the room.

Dean's head lifted, turned towards me. It was all I needed to slip into the room and close the door behind me. At that moment, I wished quite fiercely that I was more like Ginny. My emotions were naturally on a lease - Neville had once said that I was "so used to being reserved that locking down felt comfortable". After the torture, he'd then said he understood. If I could be the kind of girl that ran to Dean to throw my arms around him, I would have considered the merits in the action. Dean turned all the way around on his stool and offered me a half-smile.

"Hullo."

"I came."

"So you did. I knew you would."

His half-smile gained depth and I peeled myself off the door and walked across the room. It was only natural that my hands found his face, touched his cheek. Later I would be affected by how close we'd been and how much of myself I might have revealed in all the little things I'd done but now? Now was for Dean and if now meant standing between his legs and cupping his face so that I could reassure myself that he was okay, I'd berate myself later.

"Didn't I promise that I would?"

He closed his eyes and leaned forward. My hands fell away from his dark skin only to slide up and stroke his hair. This time when he sighed I felt the breath leave him because it blew into the folds of my dress. His hands roped loosely around my knees. I hadn't seen him with all the charm and the energy peeled away for a very long time. Not since the War. He handled things so well and he was a boy, like I said. And perhaps boys just didn't cry. Yet seeing him this way...it didn't unnerve me as much as it should have. The bond told me what he was feeling, and when I put my mind to it, I could siphon off slices of the memories he was remembering now. More of them. He was human, of course, and he wanted them back the way it'd been. I rubbed his back, his neck, his shoulders, stroked him like I could push all the sadness away.

"I didn't want you to worry. I knew you would," he repeated.

Now I wasn't so sure that he didn't mean them both. Regardless, I said the only thing I could.

"Always."

We remained that way for what felt like a long time. Long after the slices of memory dwindled down to one every few minutes, long after his arms tightened around me, long after the tenseness in his back went away. When he leaned back, I couldn't help but cup his face again. Perhaps if I had known what I was going to do, I might have...Merlin, I should at least tell the truth at this point. If I really sat down and doped myself up with Veritaserum, I might do the same thing. Again. Alas, I didn't know that I was going to do that until after I'd done it.

I kissed him.

Not anything raunchy, nothing like the escapades written by anonymous readers to _Witch Weekly_ in the gag section, but I did it. It was like one of those moments when the world slows down and you know what's about to happen but you can't stop it. It was like this one time when I was little, around age five or so, and I'd been climbing one of the trees out by the lake in my backyard and fell off the tree. There was this silence before the fall, before the moment my balance altered and my torso began slipping sideways and my legs were scrambling for purchase on the rough bark, when I knew that this was going to end with a broken limb but my little body just couldn't jerk sideways fast enough to sit upright. As I slid, all the pieces zipped together like a Muggle magnet, like a surety charm. My elbow broke my fall as it was meant to (as if my arm and the ground were two opposite sides to the same magnet, then broke in the valiant effort. This was like that.

Inevitable.

His face was upturned and his chin resting on my belly and he was looking at me and..and..Merlin, I suppose I must have made all the right moves, really. Even as those hands (that looked so very much like mine but were moving without my express attention) lifted his face away from my body, even as his eyebrows arched in his customary expression for confusion, even as I leaned down with my eyes closing automatically with weighty expectation...I knew that this was not going to be good in the grand scheme of my personal plan to keep my feelings off my sleeve. I knew it. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it but I just couldn't stop myself. My lips met his, the bond bloomed, my heart swelled, his arms slipped away from me to twine about my back. I was searching and he was careful and all I could do was explore him since he was letting me. His mouth moved under mine, his heart moved under mine too.

When I blinked myself back to consciousness, I wasn't standing anymore. Which of course only made me blink even more because I simply didn't remember how I'd come to be in Dean's lap.

"Wow."

It was a very long-drawn out statement. His awe was a statement on his face too. But his awe quickly gave away to a slow way-too-male smile that made me feel like it was in my best interest to stiffen my spine against melting. Heavens but the way he quirked his lips, the way his eyes focused on my face then looked into my eyes, how he made me feel like a fireworm had taken residence in my chest. It was terribly hard to even wrap my head around the fact that I, Luna Lovegood, had kissed him, Dean Thomas. I'd kissed him. Like a lovesick idiot who wanted to ruin her own plan of secrecy. I instantly strengthened the wall in my head for damage control. While my head was spinning, his arms were tightening around my waist.

I cleared my throat. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Sorry about that," I said around the evil little pixie that seemed to have taken residence in my throat. "I wanted to-"

_Make it all better._ I bit my lip. The sentence sounded as good as damned confession, excuse my language. I didn't clear my throat this time. But leaving the sentence hanging was even worse so I took a deep breath and-

"Make it all better."

I tried not to wince. It still sounded like a confession. But what could I do? And damn me (again, please excuse my language!) but he smiled so brightly that my heart started beating like a charmed drum in my ribcage. I was going to to lift my hand to hold it in but Dean caught it before it got there, then turned it over and kissed the inside of my palm twice. Which made the drumbeat go silent for a moment, then return harder and faster before.

"Thank you."

The drum was making it impossible to breathe. He curled my hand in his, then kissed my knuckles. Twice. Merlin but I was going to die today in his arms.

"Ah-"

"Thank you," he repeated. This time the look on his face was greatly amused. Perhaps I needed help strengthening my mental block because he looked too much like he knew what I was thinking.

"Your welcome." I fought the blush and lost.

"You're even prettier when you're pink." He smirked. "You're pretty all the time but damned if I don't like the way you look when you color up."

"Dean," I said as firmly as I could, "stop it."

He started to laugh.

"You're not taking me seriously," I exclaimed as I stood up. I hit him in the shoulders. "Stop laughing!"

"You're the cutest when you're angry though."

He dodged the first slap then outright ran backwards and away from me to escape the rest. I kept it up until I was tired but laughing, until he let me catch him and dunk him a good one. Then of course he said something else (something extremely patronizing about weak girls and blonde being the color of frail femininity) which had us going around the room a second time. It wasn't until Daddy came back downstairs and shooed me out of the experiment room that I realized what he'd done. Dean had instinctively dropped the atmosphere down to what would make me most comfortable.

I leaned against the hallway wall and smiled to myself. I may have ruined myself completely today but Merlin knows that it was a lovely way to go. I'd beat myself up in a few hours but...

_It would be a lovely way to go._


	6. Closer Than Close

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: One commenter said that Luna is much different than she was in Rainbow. I write Luna the way she always has been, but because we get to see her thought-process we get a more realistic view of her. That said, she's more or less the same outwardly calm individual she has always been. The chaos we see is internal, and because she's naturally introverted, doesn't translate over on the outside. There's my argument. :) I will do better to have Dean describe her so we can see both sides of Luna, oui? In other news...this chapter wasn't beta'ed either :( We have been unable to contact each other for the last few months. Make do with my half-assed thrice-over of these chapters until she returns, beloved readers!**

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Chapter 6 - Closer Than Close

_"Being 'close' and being 'close to' have to entirely different connotations. When the lines blur, things get messy." – Ginny to Luna on being friends with boys, Fourth Year._

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Dinner at Hermione's has always been an extraordinarily disordered affair.

The first few times she'd pulled us all together for a meal at her apartment, she'd really tried to maintain a sense of order. Ginny had snickered when she'd seen place-cards and ornate settings on the table (really now, even I had raised eyebrows!). She'd tried this a few more times until Ron had finally told her point-blank around a mouthful of spaghetti that she was wasting her time and that they weren't children meant to be coddled. She'd huffed a bit but let off with maintaining order. Now that the group was expanding, that the twins and Lee were joining in to eat and sometimes bringing some of their own friends along, order wasn't even possible anymore. Now we tended to spread out as soon as the dinners began – with the boys communing around the television and us three lingering in the dining room before joining them much later. Chaos reigned, even if Hermione Granger had to suffer a headache afterwards.

Today was a bit different. After the hubbub over the news that Bill and Charlie would be arriving home tomorrow morning, everyone was gathered in the kitchen absorbed in various conversations to talk in and around and over each other. Usually we nagged the boys a bit for abandoning the dining room so early but we couldn't wait for them to leave. Or, rather, I couldn't wait for them to leave. Call me impatient but I'd missed out on so much last night – the deadline for the July edition of _The Quibbler_ was drawing close and I was flying against the clock. I'd only had a few chaotic texts from Gin and 'Mione to alert me to whatever in Merlin's name had happened last night, and they'd been sharing looks all night. I was going to go crazy if-

"Dean, you're going to miss the West Ham vs. North Hampton game if you don't get a move on," I trilled sweetly.

It worked like a _mobilus_charm. He grabbed Harry by the collar on the way out, then wheeled around to make a plate faster than I could say 'gluttonous'. Suffice to say he was no longer holding Harry, who was also making up a plate at breakneck speak. I blinked a few more times and the two of them were gone and the loud of hum of Hermione's television spitting out sport announcements as an undercurrent to the boys raucous conversation was all that was left to us.

I eyed Hermione who was still standing against a kitchen counter then pointed to a chair.

"Sit." She sat.

"Talk."

And, boy, did she ever. For the next ten minutes, she talked. I made a plate and started eating my salad as she talked. She started with what I'd missed this week – skimming over their daily Copernicus meetings and settling on the day that she and Malfoy otherwise known as 'that git' had gotten into an argument. If you could call it that. I didn't bother interrupting. The point of the tale was not for me to understand the _why_of the argument but to see that it was the root of what had happened. Which started with the argument, became a full-scaled standoff that lead to a run-in with Hermione's famous adversary – the dark. No one besides us knew that Hermione was mildly afraid of the dark. It made sense – the War had instilled a new fear for the dark that hadn't existed before it.

"I remember how utterly _terrified_ that something was happening. Just-" She stopped and ran a hand through her hair before continuing. "-it pushed everything else out. I wasn't even in the frame of mind to remember wandless magic."

"Oh, 'Mione," I said sympathetically. "Go ahead."

She didn't remember too much about how she got from the alleyway to the Malfoy Mansion. What she did remember is waking up yesterday morning with no idea of how she'd gotten into her 'evil enemy's' home. Breakfast with Narcissa Malfoy had been fairly intimidating though she quipped 'there's nothing like facing down Voldemort to take the fear out of everything else'. Of course she would say something like that.

"He said _what?_" I must admit that I was on the edge of a gasp. "Wait, what?"

I've mentioned that I am rarely surprised. There's just so much that humanity and the rest of the animal kingdom are capable of that I am mostly never taken unaware. But a fight should not have escalated this far and heaven knows Draco Malfoy should have been smarter than to say something so incredibly hurtful out loud. There must have been some sort of charm on him, or a pixie tangled in his cloak.

"I couldn't believe it either," snarled Ginny. She bit into an apple rather viciously but it was understandable. Draco Malfoy was not even remotely funny.

" 'Why would anyone in their right mind want to rape _you_?' " Her face twisted into what I gathered was supposed to be Draco's voice during delivery. It wasn't pretty. " 'Even with a paper bag over your bushy head and tape over that filthy mouth, I wouldn't go near you for the world's supply of money.' "

"Wow." I leaned back as Hermione made another angry swipe at her hair. "Wow. That's actually-"

"-cruel?" Ginny slammed her free hand down on the table. "Quite. That's not something that anyone really ever need seriously say. Good thing she slapped him."

"You slapped him?" I turned back to Hermione. "I hope you left a mark."

"Luna!"

The smile on her face well-assured me that she had. And had enjoyed it. Perhaps, not at the time though but the thought was making her happy. She'd marched out of the Mansion and into her apartment and then a few hours later had sashayed her way into club _Scintillation_ with Gin by her side. Where, of course, Providence had slammed her sideways with another confrontation.

"Why am I unsurprised by this," I murmured before sipping my pumpkin juice. "But, of course. Why would he have gone to _any_ other club in the city?"

"Merlin knows something was set against her last night." Gin was grinning now. "But at least we looked smashing. Poor Malfoy hadn't the faintest clue what to do with himself. Jealousy personified."

Robert, a young American wizard that Gin and I had met through a series of strange events last Year before the War (ahem, details that I am not at liberty to go into suffice to say that he was an acquaintance of mine and even more of an acquaintance of Ginny's), had been there. I hadn't seen him in a month due to his new bartending schedule, and architect class at the Muggle university in London. Rob was also incredibly attractive - so attractive that he turned heads on a regular basis, was mistaken for popular Muggle idols frequently, and was also a bother to be seen with in public. Outings with Rob were an adventure because you were either mistaken for his sister or his girlfriend. Apparently, if one was female, one had to be related or romantically interested.

No wonder Malfoy had fought. Territorial instincts and all that.

"But let's call a misted bush a misted bush." I pushed my plate aside and laced my fingers together on the table. "Would you have kissed Rob if Malfoy hadn't come along?"

"I mean-"

"Would you?" Gin interrupted her stuttering. "And be advised, you wouldn't be the first witch in the history of the world to ever have snogged that boy. Believe you me."

Hermione's eyes were widened - she was instantly distracted.

"Gin, have _you_-"

"Yes, but I'll talk about that later. Much later. But answer Luna's question first."

"I would love to say that I would have but the truth?" Hermione shrugged with a smile. "No matter how despicable Malfoy is, I consider kissing to be cheating and that's something I would never do, angry or otherwise. Although God knows that our faces _were_ awfully close and I _was_ sort of staring at his lips but I didn't want to kiss him so I wouldn't have."

I laughed a little bit.

"And Malfoy?"

She shrugged again.

"I find myself surprised at having cause to be thankful to his friends. They were the only ones who could have gotten him out of there. Heaven knows that I might have struck him if they hadn't come along in time, because when I asked whether he would be civil if I unbound him, he blinked a vigorous no. Clearly, even after making a scene he was ready to make _another_ one."

She threw hands in the air.

"I'm so ready to be finished with this relationship! Could he be any crueler? Any more stubborn? Make any less _sense_? Why on _earth_ do boys do the things they do? I need a guidebook, some literature, a text, anything! Reading Draco Malfoy would make far more sense on paper!"

It was the question that most females, witches and Muggle and magical females alike, probably thought about the most. I had no idea what moved Dean to do things he did around me, or say the things he said around me. I would like to think young men are normal human beings who have the same forward thought function as us but...alas, no. Apparently, not at all.

"Was that the last of him you heard?"

She nodded.

_Well, perhaps that's for the best. _They certainly needed time to cool off.

"I expect the ferret to owl by tonight. Last time she saw him he was bundled up and trundled off like a sack of potatoes." Ginny made a deep harrumphing noise (that, oddly enough, reminded me of Rita Skeeter) and pushed away from the kitchen counter to put some of the empty dishes in the sink. "He's going to want to either talk down to her or make up for it somehow."

Hermione snorted and I laughed.

"I'm betting on the former rather than the latter."

"Aww 'Mione," I said, reaching out and rubbing her shoulders across the table. "It will get better. I assure you, it will."

"It _has_ to," she responded, "because otherwise someone's going to lose a limb. And it certainly won't be me."

This time the three of us dissolved into laughter, and the laughter washed the worry lines away. I stood at the end and hugged them both before squeezing Hermione on the shoulder again. It would come out alright at the end - we couldn't possibly see a good end right now but there was no way that happiness wouldn't find the smartest witch of our age. I grabbed an arm of each and tugged them out of into the living room.

"Joining the party, are we?" Ginny tossed her hair over her shoulders. "We didn't even really get to eat back there."

"No?" I asked, letting go of their arms. "Fine, go back and eat then. I'll stay here."

'Mione smiled and waved me forward before heading back into the kitchen with Gin in tow.

"Oi, Lune!"

"Mmm?" I turned to see Dean patting the seat and Fred looking a bit hassled next to him.

When Harry and Ron, who were on the carpet, started snickering wildly I stopped a little short. It didn't take too much to guess that Dean had probably shoved the redhead aside to make room for me. I laughed as I crossed the living room then laughed again when George rolled his eyes towards his twin for my benefit.

"So clearly it's your girl over your friends, mate?" Fred budged over but shot Dean a look I couldn't quite read. "After all those years of knowing you, I just can't believe it."

"Really?" asked Dean mildly. "Somehow I remember you saying our friendship didn't stretch far enough to cover discounts on that shipment of Acid Fruity Pops."

Harry, Ron and George laughed uproariously while I hid a smile behind my hand. Not for long though – Dean appeared to be done with the conversation because all his attention was on me. I sighed internally as my body went ahead and did its usual 'Oh-but-I-can't-control-myself-around-this-boy' thing which translated into all the signs of a body working under pressure. Elevated heartbeat and increased blood flow, high alertness, and of course the strange desire to let slip my reserve. It was becoming practice now – I had no doubt that I was quickly becoming the most disciplined person I knew. I could run marathons, I was so used to operating at this advanced level of functioning.

Sadly, it also meant that the days I spent with Dean more often than not had me hitting the bed hard. I'd barely had time to garden at night anymore and that was starting to bother me much more than I let on. When I wasn't fortifying my mental barriers, I was alternating between congratulating myself on a job well done and anxiously wondering what he was thinking about me. I didn't want to worry Gin or Hermione, and I didn't want to share my fears yet. Because in addition to the strengthening and the wondering was a new worry-

_Fear._

The kiss had been a mistake. A terrible unmitigated mistake and a doorway that I'd opened without understanding what I was going to let through. Plan 'Heart Off Robe Sleeves' had been undermined by that afternoon because it had done three damned things. Now that I'd had a…taste, per se… of him, it came out to distract at me the most inopportune times. Secondly, it had opened up a whole new plane of intimacy that made it difficult to successfully execute said plan. We were always touching. Always. Touching. There was rarely a time in which we were in the same room and not connected someway. Just like him stretching out his hand to take mine and sit me down next to him. Little things like playing with my hair or stroking my cheek, hand-holding on occasion. He gave and I took. No more kissing though. I did my best to make very sure that we never ended up in a situation where I'd even be tempted. And third fear – that I was in love with someone who already had someone else in his heart.

_Lavender._

Dean either didn't know how to hide his thoughts from me or he didn't want to. Literally he was an open book if I cared to invade his privacy. More often than not I knew intuitively what he was thinking, and did my best to give him the same courtesy. You can say my fears were ungrounded and I would agree with you…at first. Seamus and Lavender were never too far from his thoughts but they were separate half the time. And his thoughts on Lavender were more emotion than word.

Go ahead. Call me a nut. I might even deserve it.

Warmth, adoration, frustration, affection, grief. The feelings were enough to discourage me from rifling through them to get to memories underneath. I can admit that I didn't want to see anything that would make me feel more burdened than I already did. Enough that I was alone in love. Too much if I wasn't but it wasn't me.

"Won't you sit? I-"

"Definitely choosing her over me," Fred grumbled.

"George, if you don't stop interrupting me…" Dean's handsome face was twisted into a genuine frown presently.

"George! _George!_" I'd seen this one and couldn't warn Dean mentally in time so I just leaned back and watched Fred as he dramatically pointed at his identical twin brother. "_That's_ George, you blooming idiot! My name is Fred!"

The laughter was infectious – even 'Mione and Ginny who had emerged from the kitchen were doubling up. My poor lovely Dean's eyes widened at his mistake and then narrowed again.

"Doesn't matter," he said in a clipped voice. "Just stop interrupting me!"

"Doesn't…_doesn't matter?_"

_I have a feeling you knew exactly what you were doing,_I sent him while I smiled to myself. _In fact, I'm near certain of it._

**_Mum's the word, darling._**His hand squeezed mine and my heart skipped a beat at the endearment. Outwardly he scowled and started a different argument that outlined the why individuality was not important in this situation.

"I'm a person, Dean!" Fred raised his hands in an overly dramatic gesture then clapped both over the middle of his chest. "I'm a person with feelings, and _you_-"

"Are you?" Neville mused with a mock-serious look on his face. He stroked his chin and pinned Fred with an innocent stare. "Here was I thinking you might be a flobberworm."

"Oh get over yourself, mate!" Ron quipped. He leaned over and voiced the next at stage whisper to Harry. "I'm wondering if I pretend to be getting wrapped up in you he'll stop rambling."

"Really? I don't think that will much deter him."

He hummed in my ear, which tickled, which had me giggling and twisting away from him. I didn't have to turn my head to feel him grinning. It was in his voice as he spoke again.

"Well, even if it doesn't deter him, it will definitely keep me entertained. Don't you agree?"

Somehow, my mind was channeling his words into a tunnel that imbued the sentence with far more meaning that he'd probably meant before said words had entered that tunnel. I had to fight an inexplicable shiver (what on earth was I reacting to?) that edged out the laughter. When it became clear that he might still want an answer, I offered him one.

"Ah, yes," I breathed softly. "You're completely right."

That probably wasn't quite the correct answer. Alas, it was all I could do at the moment. He laughed and it went straight to my heart, which he was doing more and more often these days.

"Good because I think I'm just going to keep making you laugh until either you can't handle it or I can't. Let's forget about Fred altogether." I looked up at him just in time to see him give an uncharacteristic smirk as he looked at said twin. "He might work himself into an apoplexy if we're lucky."

I burst out laughing and raised a hand to cover my mouth when I couldn't control it.

"Are you making fun of him, mate?" interrupted George. "Let me know so I can join in too."

I laughed even harder as George received a rather vicious punch in the arm for his troubles, while Harry gave into his mirth with abandon. Hermione and Gin finally pushed away from the wall to usher the boys into behaving which was almost as successful as using oil to put out a fire.

"Alright, alright – half time is almost over and you all are probably going to want to _pay_ attention in five."

Gin shot me a look and extended her hand while Hermione urged more food on the boys (which they happily took) and settled down for the next forty-five minutes of football. Code for 'let's go somewhere else to talk'. We reconvened in the kitchen to the next round of raucous laughter and screaming from the parlor.

"What's happened?"

"Owl from Malfoy himself."

But, of course. Hadn't we predicted as much? I crossed my arms and asked the obvious.

"What did it say?"

Hermione snorted.

"He's certainly not a fan of Rob, and he made it very clear that he isn't going to apologize for last night's fiasco."

I couldn't help myself when I started laughing again but she handed me the short piece of parchment with Draco Malfoy's neat flourishing handwriting all over it. They were right one both notes – the boy was clearly at the opposite end of the apology spectrum. And, in between his stubborn callousness, he somehow managed to flippantly ask her to dinner at a restaurant tomorrow eve.

"Well, he certainly doesn't mince words," I said with a smile. I shook my head. The audacity was probably killing Hermione. "Going?"

"Oh, yes." She drew out the 'yes' in a way that made me fear for Malfoy's life. He'd started something that he wasn't ready to finish. Of that I was sure. "Don't worry about anything at all."

_Oh, I'm not,_ I thought to myself. _More worried for him than anyone else._

**_Hm?_**

_Nothing._I sent him a smile even as I wondered why my mental barriers had let that thought through.

**_You sure?_**I got the impression of a cocked head and I couldn't help but smile and send him reassuance. **_Because I will break up that little girl-pow-wow to get to you if I need to._**

_Just fine. Score?_

**_Zero-one, West Ham. _**Just as he sent the thought an almighty roar rose from outside the kitchen, that was punctuated by Dean's own grown in my head. **_Scratch that – one-one, West Ham._**

_You keep watching since I'll be out in a minute._

He hummed at me before I felt the connection disintegrate. Right in time to catch my mates in the middle of planning something.

"-if it is, then remind him of what he can't have." Gin tossed her hair over her shoulder then grinned in a way that made me draw back slightly. Definitely planning something. "And of course, Rob can always put in a guest appearance on request. And if _that_ doesn't work, then you can wear something that will give us a good excuse to go shopping at the Muggle boutiques for lingerie."

I blinked. Rapidly.

"_What_?" I asked. "What on earth are we scheming?"

"The destruction of Draco Malfoy," 'Mione responded swiftly, and not a little viciously. I smiled at her rancor then pretended to be appalled.

"All males included?"

"Mostly."

"Should I go ahead and warn Dean of his imminent demise then?"

Gin grinned that grin again and I burst into laughter. She was far too devious for her own good - whatever great ancestor had given Fred and George the penchant for mischief had also gotten the youngest Weasley. Sometimes it was vexing how energetic she was. But at times like this it was refreshing and endearing. I didn't doubt that that's what made Harry fall in love with her all over again every day.

"I'm against the annihilation of men everywhere," I said lightly, "but I'm all for going into this without a care in the world. As Ginny's fond of saying, give him hell."

"Closet?" Ginny burst out, waggling her eyebrows.

Without much of answer and much ado about dragging and pulling, Hermione and I found ourselves being hustled off to her room before Hermione could even agree. The boys tried to call us back but Gin warded them off. Before long the three of us were sequestered down the hallway in her bedroom with clothes all over the bed, Muggle brushes for powder and liquid makeup all over the massive vanity desk, an old-fashioned hot iron instead of hair-straightening spells. In other words, it'd turned into a

I would never consider myself a fashionista by any means, and much of the time, I stick to my favorites. I adore long patterned gypsy skirts, flowing dresses brightly colored scarves, funky jewelry pieces. Dean had been completely right about the spiky black heels I'd worn on our only official date – not anything I'd approach armed with a ten-foot long Mermaid triad. 'Mione however was both more casual and edgier in her look. When she was casual, she was cute. When she was edgy, she could be as attractive as a cover model.

To 'destroy' Draco Malfoy, we weren't even going for edgy. We were going for outright sexy, which I secretly called 'borderline lady of the night'. It was a look that was coming together before my very eyes, complete with smoky eyes, heavy eyeliner and a bustier top that made Ginny faint over the possibilities of going shopping for something like it. I had to laugh out loud when 'Mione fluffed her hair, blew kisses to the two of us applauding her on the bed, and started sashaying her way to us across the carpet.

"Stunning!" I catcalled with a whistle. "He will be beside himself."

"Take a bow, darling," said Ginny with a flowery bow (is it weird that I thought of Professor Lockhart in that moment?). She did and the bustier threatened to bow out as well. Which was exactly as she wanted it apparently.

"You know, I really want to see Luna in what I wore to the club."

I blinked. "What?"

"Come on, come on. I want to see it too!" exclaimed Ginny. "Luna in black?"

"Oh, she'd make it look good."

I blinked again. It sounded like she'd worn something that was only a step down from what she was wearing now. And that was something I'd ever _ever _put on. Imagine my surprise when the blinking didn't help – I was dragged up and stripped down and was standing in my underthings before I could spell a warding charm. I almost gasped when I saw what it was she had worn! Short black miniskirt, a lacy backless halter looked like it dipped very low to show off cleavage, and heels that were even higher and spikier than Ginny's.

_Merlin, _I thought to myself, _where on earth did she find this? _

Funnily enough, even as I half-convinced myself that this was the farthest from me I'd ever gotten in my entire life, the allure of getting out of the box was pretty heavy.

"Pretty please, won't you put them on?"

I looked up at them then looked back down at the clothes. Yes, I was actually going to wear them.

"Oh, yes," I said with a real smile. "Besides, no one besides us two will see me, right?"

It didn't take me long to get dressed but Gin insisted that I wear everything – even the heels. I didn't grumble though – my will had crumbled once the soft lace top had slid over my skin.

"Sit down and I'll do the makeup."

"Oh, come on," I finally protested, "we're not even going out tonight!"

"Does that matter?" asked 'Mione in a way that said it clearly didn't.

"But-"

"No, since you went half of the way you might as well go _all_ the way."

_Interruption duly noted. Guess silence is really all they want to hear, right?_ I sighed a little then sat down at the desk and let Hermione go to work. It was more makeup than I was used to wearing, especially since I usually did absolutely nothing. Lipgloss, yes. Everything else, no, unless it was a special occasion.

You can imagine that almost nothing was a special occasion.

"Open your eyes, darling." I did. Her face looked amazed. "I don't what it is but you make the 'bad girl' thing look more daringly innocent than I ever could. Don't you agree?"

She looked over at Ginny, who looked similarly stunned. It was a look that I hadn't really seen on her face in a long time so I turned around to look at myself and…

Stopped.

_Wow._

I stared and stared and stared. It didn't even look like me. Silver drop earrings sparkled from my face and a matching silver necklace nestled between my breasts. My eyes were done lightly, with a mere dusting of light silver eye shadow and light black mascara to make them look more alluring while my lips were glossed over with clear lip gloss. _Wow._

Hermione was completely right. Where the brunette would look and the redhead would be sultry, I looked like I was going to seduce someone with innocence. Everything made me softer – the smoky line and blue powder made my eyes so large in my face that I wanted to squint to stop it. Sometime when I hadn't been paying attention someone had curled my normally sheet-straight hair.

"Well then," I murmured. "Well. Wow."

"Indeed," muttered Ginny. The stunned look slid off her face to be replaced by a look that spoke volumes of being mischievous. "Adequate response."

I fingered the curls then touched the tips of eyelashes that were heavier than usual. Then I looked into the mirror and smiled. It really wasn't a 'me' that I'd seen before but-

"Shall I strut too?"

I stood up (albeit a little shakily since I was now on the verge of topping even Ron in terms of height on these heels) and spun around to give them a little curtsey. I looked down at the sheer lace and rubbed my hands over the soft material of the skirt. The long mirror next to the desk was propped up and ready for me to stare some more at myself. It was This time they were the ones clapping while I tried to parade around with my new and improved look.

"I wish you'd let me use magic," hummed Gin. "I would manifest a camera to record this."

"Luna, those shoes are really helping you out." Apparently, Hermione couldn't be bothered to respond. So I did like she had and blew them a few kisses. I was just working out how to walk in the spiky heels without turning my ankle there was a bang then a really brief double knock then–

Dean.

Filling the doorway, jaw cracked open as wide as it could go and eyes glued to me. I don't know how his brain had processed the picture so quickly but it had. He took the scene in and then just stared. My heart stopped at his presence. And perhaps his did too because he was standing there still dumbstruck. My mind shot through so many different scenarios that I couldn't follow them all.

"I uh…Er, I just thought…um, maybe I-" He snapped his mouth shut and settled for drinking me in with his eyes. A long pause and then he finally settled for a word. "Hullo."

"Ah…hello," I said lamely. When I heard snickering, my gaze snapped across the room to focus on Gin (the source of the noise) and 'Mione (the partner in crime). I'm really sure that I gave the two of them a withering glare before Dean cleared his throat and grabbed my attention. "I was just-"

"No, I just…er…wanted to see where you'd all headed off…" The sentence dangled as his eyes did a dip and rise-

No rise actually. Dean's gaze had dipped and was now lingering on my leg.

_Well, isn't this a scene._ I'd only meant to be seen by these two and the one man I'd be anxious about being seen by is exactly the one that appears stage left. Could have I had the worst luck in the world?

/-|-\

_Jesus H Christ,_ I thought to myself. _Jesus._

I'd done a quick knock out of habit – the wrong habit. I'd become so comfortable in 'Mione's house that this kind of behavior was becoming normal. I don't know if it would have changed anything if I'd waited for a sound on the other side but, as fate would have it, I opened the door. And my mind kicked forward at lightspeed. Hermione and Ginny across the room. Then this blonde in the room that had to be Luna-

Except it couldn't have been, even from the back, because God knows that I knew my girl like the back of my hand and I'd never seen her wear anything like this before and I feel like I would just know, wouldn't I? Wouldn't I? Wouldn't-

She turned.

And I literally couldn't keep my tongue in my mouth. _Jesus! _She was – just – who ever had put her in these…clothes…my God, was that a miniskirt she was wearing? And that lace cupped her in all the…what on earth had happened to create this person in front of-

"I uh…Er, I just thought…um, maybe I-"

Oh bloody hell. I hadn't even realized I was speaking to her. I shut my mouth and let my eyes wander with my mind in silence. Wow, had I ever took notice of her legs? Nope, because she was a fan of long boots and long skirts and dresses that dropped down around her knees. My God, her legs were long. Way long. Extremely…very…incredibly and attractively long. But had they always been that long?

Key word: attractively.

I tried to shut my mouth but I couldn't help myself. Her eyes were incredibly wide – she looked surprised. Everything hugged her ridiculously – I found myself paying attention to how small her waist was above the flare of her hips, the way her pretty hair curled around her shoulders…and what lovely shoulders those were, by the way. Her eyes were just so large in her face, such a pretty blue. She was a walking contradiction – the tightness and the sheerness of the outfit somehow managing to look unknowingly innocent. So then I tried to speak to cover up the fact that I rather wanted to stride across the room and hold her up, ogle her, then do a repeat of that fantastic kiss from a few days ago.

"Hullo."

Luna blinked, gazing at me rather blankly. It made me want to apologize and back out of the room quickly.

"Hello."

She looked away from me for a moment with narrowed eyes then looked back. Expectantly.

"No," I said quickly, "I just wanted to see where you'd all headed off…"

And there went the connection between my brain and my mouth again. More staring…or really, devouring with my eyes. I wanted to kiss her. Badly. And though I didn't look at the reasons too closely, I knew that I looked at her and she looked at me and finally a blush rose to her cheeks. It made her look even more like an innocent seductress. And boy was I willing to come hither.

"Maybe I should just-"

"Oh!" It was Ginny, hand to her mouth. She looked around the room then headed for the door. "Harry just called me down."

"How would you-" The redhead cut Hermione off then took her hand and pulled her towards the door.

"The bond," she said as she pulled. Ginny patted me on the arm as she moved past me then I blinked, they were behind me, they were gone.

I looked back at Luna who was looking quite nonplussed. Harry, bless his little heart, was being the very best mate that a boy could have. I'd have to thank him later for giving me this opportunity…since I was sure as hell not going to waste it.

So, like any good bloke would do, I stepped into the room and closed the door.

"You know, I don't usually dress like this," she said. She didn't _look_ anxious but…Her hesitation was endearing, as if she didn't quite know how to react to me seeing her. I smiled, finally sure that my mouth might not escape my control.

"Oh, I know," I said with something very close to a smirk. "I know that very well."

She shrugged and started making hand gestures towards the scattered clothes on the bed and the makeup cases all over the desk and shoes on the floor.

"I usually don't…dress…like this," she repeated. "Just that we were…discussing Hermione's date and then one thing led to another. Really, it's usually not my thing at all."

"I know." I smiled, stepped over a particularly sexy pair of red heels, and walked slowly around the room. She was the end goal, after all, but she didn't have to know that right away. "Hermione's clothes?"

She nodded.

"I didn't know she even owned clothes like this." I maneuvered around another set of shoes and a pair of jeans before standing in front of her. She tilted her head backwards to look at me and I smiled down at her. "But you know what? The look…you look incredible."

Yeah, I was going to do it. I cupped her face (God, did her eyes have to be so blue? It was enough to be distracting!) and leaned in close enough to feel her breath across my face. She seemed frozen with surprise, and I couldn't help but grin and lean closer.

"I'm going to kiss you now," I whispered.

My lips, her lips. I was in control of this for the first time, but I could feel her stiffen and I wanted her at ease. Thought wouldn't be beneficial for this – if she thought, she'd pull away. So I didn't pull her closer like I wanted to – I stroked her face until she finally kissed back. I could feel a little bit of her through the link: hesitant, unsure, incredulity. It was my cue to deepen it, to withdraw a hand from the softness of her cheek and wrap that arm around her waist.

She made a sound that shot straight through me.

Now I couldn't help myself.

"Sorry about that." I was pulling her closer. I couldn't stop from trailing my lips down her neck. God, I had to stop this. I pulled back. "Couldn't help myself."

Luna looked so shocked in the circle of my arms that I chuckled.

"You alright?"

"Um, yes."

"Don't think I've ever heard you use the word 'um'."

Immediate blushing. She was the prettiest little thing I'd ever seen, that was for sure.

"First time I've had cause to use it."

I arched an eyebrow. _Well, well,_ I thought, _someone still has spirit._ I ran both hands through her curls, cradled the nape of her neck, ran my thumbs down the column of her neck. When she shivered, I grinned. Then let my arms fall away and stepped back. Her anxiety was creeping back slowly. So I fought it the only way I knew how.

"Should I carry you downstairs?" I joked. I made to do so and she half-gasped and pushed me back. "On second thought, you should change so that no one else will see you besides me."

She arched a delicate eyebrow.

"That would mean you want me to yourself?"

I ignored how loaded the question sounded.

"Don't I always?"

"I don't know," she said with a serene smile that was close to the Luna I know. "Do you?"

"Constantly." It was the truth, anyway. No harm in telling her what she wanted to know, all though I had no idea what she wanted to hear. The truth wouldn't harm anyone…I think. "I might as well leave and let you change."

_As much as I'd love to stay and watch…_Yeah, that was nothing I'd be saying aloud anytime soon. Not today, at least. Instead of brushing my lips against her like I would have loved to do, I nuzzled her neck then let her go. At the door, I turned and offered her a mischievous grin.

"Unless you'd like me to stay?"

She laughed, like I had known she would, and made rapid shooing motions with her hands. I turned and left, thanking Harry for calling Ginny all the way down the stairs and down the hallway that led to the living room.

Two days later, I was stressed. I hadn't seen Luna since the party because of two things. She'd become embroiled in preparing for this month's publication and I had gotten serious about studying like Hermione, which was what it would take to succeed in the Healing Exam. Granted I'd only gotten down to the studying today but at least I was getting down to it.

Charlie and Bill Weasley had finally returned to England, after the former had been traversing East Europe and the other in France with his wife's family. A massive dinner that had started in the afternoon and had me stumbling out with my flatmates after midnight, not a little drunk, to get to our beds early. Neville had extra training first thing in the morning as an Unspeakable. Harry, as the Savior of the Wizarding World, was doing the Minister a continued kindness by meeting with dignitaries from all over. Ron was helping out at Wizarding Wheezes for a hefty bit of money, while looking out for something more permanent.

Now, home alone, I wanted nothing more than to take a mini-break and see Luna's face. If I could just convince her that a little distraction would be beneficial and might even produce more good activity.

_Right._

Somehow, that wouldn't quite pan out well. Usually, she was so absorbed in the present that I'd have to figure out how to shoot her thought loud enough to distract her. We'd had no trouble with distance as of yet. As it was, Luna Lovegood was providing a good study in how to break down mental barriers. Hers were always up and so I was becoming more and more creative to get past them. The girl had me researching ways to do it.

_Luna?_

The thought reverberated, as I'd expected. Closed my eyes and lay my head on the desk to try again. I'd probably have to send emotion with it. I was still reading up on how to send touch but this was as good a time as ever. Whispering the incantation, I said her name then imagined lacing my fingers through hers (yeah, don't ask why) and got an immediate reaction.

_Luna, darling._

**_Dean?_**

_Hello, my long-lost friend, _I said warmly. _Do you know how long it's been since we last saw each other?_

Her answer was warm and amused. **_No, how long?_**

_It's been exactly forty-five hours and thirty-minutes, give or take a few minutes._

**_A few minutes? _**I swear I could hear her laugh. **_Such an exact science._**

_It is because it's been so long and I really want to see you! Are you at work?_

**_Yes. Unfortunately, it's looking like a late night tonight again. _**

_I had a feeling. _I leaned back in my chair with my eyes still closed. _But I won't be stopped. How about I sneak over there for a little break? I'm tired of studying and, since yours is one of my most favorite faces in the whole wide world, I'm determined to come over whether you agree or no._

There was definite laughter in her next thought.

**_I suppose that's settled then._**

_I bet you haven't eaten yet so I'll bring sandwiches, alright? _

**_Sounds good. Tell me when you're here. _**

_Will do,_ I sent before opening my eyes. Yeah, I rubbed my hands together in expectation. Yeah, I immediately headed to the kitchen to pack a basket full of meat pastries and bologna sandwiches with small bottles of apple juice. Yeah, I rushed through that whole process because the rush made it feel like I was going to get there faster.

_Here_, I sent her approximately five minutes as I stood outside _Quibbler _Headquarters out in the Shires. The place looked the same: a two roomed cottage from the outside while on the inside it was a rather expansive office with an attic that housed the print-press rooms, two large full-staff meeting rooms and a conglomerations of offices that were added on by new staff when they joined (as that was the rule). They had funny wards that made one's ears blow steam for hours on end, turned eyelids and noses inside out, or blasted you with giggling charms while dangling you about fifty feet fom the ground. No doubt Mr. Lovegood is responsible for the strange forms of protection that managed to be uncomfortable and painfully bizarre.

Thank God I'd been warned prior to setting foot on the premises. Ginny, that headstrong little chit, came in useful at times.

Real laughter drifted out of the doorway as Luna poked her head out of the front door of the cottage then waved when she saw me. I was so happy to see her that my body was moving long before I told it to, heading up the path at a quick jog then stopping only so that my arms could pick her up off her feet. Her laughter was so infectious that I couldn't help but laugh a little too.

"I take it you've missed me?" she asked a little breathlessly.

"And you haven't missed me at all, clearly."

"Perish the thought. It's just that I've been so buys with everything. Besides it's not like we don't talk at least once an hour."

I finally let her feet touch the ground, before sweeping her hair out of her face.

"True, but don't I always initiate?"

"Are you pouting?"

I started laughing. "Not at all. And look at you dodge the question!"

"Again, perish the thought." She smiled and indicated the door with her head. "I never dodge. Only evade. And the answer to that is no. You certainly don't _always _initiate."

"Someone's in top form today," I teased. It was taking all my self-restraint not to take her hand in mine. We headed inside and she led the way to something that was-

_Not_ the office lunch room?

Instead, she started doing something confusing with a stack of papers on a desk while I stood in the doorway and waited. Then got tired and came all the way inside.

"Oi." I leaned against a grey machine that looked so much like a photo-copier that I did a double take. It was a good place to be to watch her. "I'm trying my best to seduce you into eating with me for a few minutes."

Her long skirt swished around as she turned around and arched her eyebrows at me. I pushed away from the machine and lifted the basket a few feet from her face.

"Eh? Eh? Come on, come on, you know want to say yes to this," I sang to her. Her lips extended into a smile and I swayed a little closer. "You do, you do, you know that you do."

"Oi," she mimicked as she took the basket from me. "I do, I do, you know that I do. I followed her into one of the small adjoining non-oval office rooms where staff and employees usually took lunch. She placed the basket on the table and was just opening her mouth to say something when we both heard something from the doorway. When we turned, we saw a heavyset dark-haired woman with spectacles stood.

"Thought I heard singing," she barked as she bustled into the room.

Luna looked as if she would drop a curtsey at any minute. Which was alarming and amusing in and of itself, really.

"Ah, yes, sorry if we disturbed you," she apologized. "You know I think there are a few Quarks in here that amplify sounds. Dean meet Emmy Stance, Emmy meet Dean Thomas."

She extended a pudgy hand to shake and I shook it in a vey business-like manner. She seemed like a no-nonsense kind of woman. Luna turned to me to tell her

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Stance," I said with a polite smile. "Luna spends so much time here that I thought I'd just come by with lunch for her. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"I didn't say you sounded terrible." Emmy Stance said with a miniscule smile. "I came because I haven't heard a baritone that nice-sounding in _ages_."

"Oh." That had honestly been the last thing I'd thought I was going to hear. "Well, thank you, then. I'm trying to her entice her to eat it _with_ me in the fifteen minutes she can spare."

"Did I hear singing?" The three of us turned to find another woman standing in the doorway. Short, dark, pretty, and clearly very perky – this one bounced right into the room. I spared Luna a discreet glance to see her smiling at our latest newcomer. Remind me not to sing so loudly in a workplace. "Must have been you because I know that Luna doesn't sing, and even if she did, it wouldn't sound quite so manly."

This one was Anne Perkins (that last name was so appropriate that I had to fight an untimely snicker) and had apparently gone to school with us. A year younger, a Hufflepuff, family from Greece by the sound of that accent.

_Maybe the heavens are against me having **any** alone time with you today? _

I was more amused than annoyed though. Luna and Gin, as different as they were, were now two peas in a pod. Despite (and in some cases _because_) of her quirky ways made friends now rather easily. It was shocking given how much she didn't at school. I'll never forget her telling me back in Final Year what it was that got her talking to Harry ("He was supremely interesting") and Neville ("You know, he's really quite an earnest fellow") and why I had been sort of a second-place relationship. I had paused, stared, and then burst into laughter at her bluntness. Now, it appeared everyone was interesting enough to gather around her.

**_It's your voice that's bringing them here, _**she replied without as much as a blink in my direction.

"In any case, Luna, could you give me a hand with something?" Luna went right a long with the aptly named Miss Perkins, but not before I heard-

"You're boyfriend is really cute!"

If it had been possible to manifest a pair of extendable ears, I bloody hell would have. As it was, I had to settle for unobtrusively bending backwards to hear her response.

"No, he's one of my best mates."

A snort and then this from the coworker.

"Sweetheart, best mates don't look at each other the way you two do. Are you sure he wasn't meant to be your betrothed?"

"Well," I heard the hesitation in her voice. I would have given a lot to be able to turn around and look at her at this moment. "He actually _is_ my betrothed but that means nothing."

_The hell it doesn't! _I thought angrily. Why I was angry I wasn't quite sure.

"Just wait for it, by the end of summer, you'll..."

Their voices drifted away as they moved around the corner and out of hearing distance. I sucked my teeth in annoyance - of course they would feel the need to move away as I tried to garner more information. And I couldn't ask Luna without arousing suspicion because it would prove that a) I had been eavesdropping and b) I had a vested interest in the answer. I would never invade her privacy by trying to look through her memories of the conversation. Which left me high and dry, didn't it. I almost called out to drag the three women back. Alas, my good judgement rather won out. Ten minutes later I was still wondering whether I'd done right.

"There you are," I managed to not to grumble upon her return without said two ladies in tow. I was busy laying out the spread. It was almost enough to feed Ron and I in one sitting, which Luna would say was enough to feed a party of six. "I was thinking that I'd have to end up leaving before you got back."

"Never you fear - I'd always come back to you." she said as she took her seat beside me. "It looks delicious, Dean. Thank you so much."

"No problem." I waved her hands off when she tried to help, then pulled together a plate for her. "Point to everything you want to try."

"A little bit of everything?" she said instead. I grinned – Luna was definitely _not_ a picky eater, as one might expect – and finished it off before grabbing a plate of my own.

"So what all is left to do? And when's the deadline?"

"A week from now."

"Really?" I bit into a sandwich. "But you're not writing an article this time?"

"Oh, no, I am actually." She grinned and indicated the door with her fork. "Well not 'writing', per se, but co-writing with Christopher Varnish. And he's doing the writing and I'm editing."

"Look at you. We should just call you Hermione, eh?"

Another true grin – so many of them this summer. I was thankful that she was becoming happier, and far more open with me and the rest of our friends.

"But do you have any say in the article?"

"Well," she shrugged, "staff decided that the new set of six writers will be working in pairs for the for-seeable future. Christopher and I decided to alternate story assignments because our writing styles are very different."

She took a hearty bite of her sandwich before continuing.

"But to keep the balance we'll come together and work on every fifth or sixth story in a truly joint manner, before splitting off again."

"Does the staff know?"

"None whatsoever." She did something thoroughly uncharacteristic – a wink! "And Chris and I are going to keep it that way. I might be best mates with Headmistress Hermione but rules can be broken."

I laughed. "I bow down to your deviousness then, Miss Lovegood. By the way, you know how I head into the Shires to visit my grandparents four times a month?"

"Yes?" she paused mid-sip. "It's this weekend?"

I nodded. "And usually when I visit Ma'am and Pappie, I head over to the Finnegan's farm."

"You do?" Luna looked thoroughly surprised. "I mean, I suspected.

"You did?" I was now surprised too. It was her turn to nod before she reached over and took one of my hands.

"Your mother, assuming that I knew, told me about how going to the Shires is always a double visit for you. She didn't ever mention names but I had wondered whom she could be talking to so looked around for what locations the nearest QuickPort terminal goes to." She laced her fingers through mine and squeezed briefly. "One of them was Ireland, so I rather guessed it was them."

Seriously, I was moved to owl my mother and tell her not to tell anyone else. Only the boys knew explicitly what I did…Harry because he'd come with me the first time, She was a smart little witch. I marveled at how quickly she'd deduced it but was distracted when her fingers made a 'come here' motion absentmindedly in the center of my palm.

"I think it's such a lovely thing that you're doing," she said with a sweet smile. "And I think that it's beyond sweet of you to take care of your family so well. I can see why everyone loves you so much and so deeply."

_She could?_ I didn't want to touch that too closely, lest I make myself nervous then maker her nervous in turn. Or, actually, it would be worse if that didn't make her nervous. If she blinked in that calm way and then just rejected-

"-right?"

"Pardon?"

"I assume you're telling me because you'd like me to come with you?"

"Ah, yes," I said. "Yes, I do. But I know how busy you are and that you have-"

"Oi," she interrupted. I arched my eyebrows at her repetition of my words. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. All I'm doing this time is editing so I'll do as much as I can now and do the rest after that, alright?"

"Are you sure?"

"More than sure." One last hand squeeze then she released my hand to resume eating. "But that means we're going to cut lunch short. Less than five minutes then I'm going to run back to Chris's cubicle."

Sounded good to me. I stood up, flicked my wand, and the basket cover flipped open so that the small blanket could refold itself to make room for everything else.

"Rushing me already?"

"A little bit," I said with a grin. "I need you with me, come this weekend, so I need you gone right now."

"And to think you were so anxious to see me half an hour ago."

"Touché, sweetheart, touché." I closed the lid but lifted the jug. "Want another hit before I put this away too?"

"I'm fine." She lifted her plate but I cut her off.

"I'll get that," I said with a smile. "The lady shouldn't have to work a bit."

"You're extremely sweet, and way too good to me."

She looked up at me from her seat, her eyes shining a little bit. It made me feel odd, taller than tall, maybe even taller than Hagrid, and it made me want to stand up straight. I ended up cocking my head and clearing my throat before I could sound like a fifteen-year old that hadn't hit puberty.

"Not good often enough, I think."

That charming smile stretched into a full-blown grin as she got up. I took the time to clear my throat again. Luna Lovegood really seemed to have no idea what kind of effect she had on me. I wanted to touch her all the time, talk to her all the time, be around her all the time. I was starting to think that it was a combination of having been best mates for a little while, the bond strengthening the need to be together as often as possible, and the fact that it was summertime.

"I'll see you in a few days?"

"What? A few days?"

She pulled me into a hug then put me back firmly. All this voluntary touching was putting me off my game.

"Yes," she said firmly, "a few days. I promise I'll call every day."

"Only every hour?" Mock outrage always did the work. "God, do I have to do all the work?"

She ushered me out the front door of the cottage then made going motions with her hands. She stood with her arms crossed as I walked backwards down the stone path.

"I'm off," I called.

"You're off," she called back.

"I'll see you!"

"You will. Study hard, alright?"

"Will you come over and help me?"

She shook her head, grinned, and waved. I waved back and turned to go, knowing that I'd be feeling the same way until the weekend came.

/-|-\

"This is the main QuickPort, isn't it?"

Another long week of summer was over, and I was standing with Dean and the London 33rd street QuickPort station outside of the Ministry. The magical world had recognized the need for a streamlined movement and had begun setting up these locations a few weeks after the War had ended. It was a quick way for those who couldn't teleport to get around the country, and the idea was becoming very popular oversees as well.

"No, it isn't." He took my hand as we looked around at the strange collection of wizards and witches that were waiting with us. I clamped down on the shiver that was destined to hit me every single time. Somedays it felt like I might never get used to him. He continued.

"I'm certain there are two more on the other side of the Ministry. They're trying to make the streets around the Ministry a central terminal."

"Really?" That didn't sound like a good idea to me. "Won't that-"

"Need security?" he finished. He nodded. "I think that's part of what Neville is working on outside of his Unspeakable work."

"Good because it would make it too easy if someone wanted to attack again."

"With all the new spells that were created during the War, the way we deal with magic and wards is really changing. I think a special defense ops team was created to deal with security for our important buildings, truth?"

"Truth, but we're changing for the better," I concurred. "You sure you don't want me to take one of the packages?"

"Definitely not." He did another half-jump that hefted the packages under his arms a little higher. They were innocuous looking sacks that held presents for his grandparents and the Finnegans. "They're quite heavy and I don't want you carrying them when I can handle them just fine."

Just at that moment everyone surged forward to touch one of the five items that had just appeared like clockwork in the center of the room. We headed towards the dog-eared tome that was only a few meters out. In less than five minutes we made the leap to the Shires (Dean landed on his bum which I thought hilarious) then we teleported to his grandparents sprawling house in the country.

The afternoon went by faster than I would have liked as we spent time with his grandparents. I hadn't thought about what side these were – they were his Muggle grandparents. They knew he was a wizard but didn't seem to know what that really meant. He didn't use magic to do the chores around the house because of the way magic affects electricity. He whispered to me that he only did really little magicks that he could get away with, such as making leaks permanently stop or fixing the roof with an impermeable spell a few years back. The plan for today was to trim the hedges around the and look at the cooling system since it was getting so humid despite the constant rain.

Here, as it was everywhere, Dean Thomas was clearly well-loved. Man of the house back home, beloved grandson down here. I was welcomed just as warmly here (Mama Laura tried to get me to help her out in the kitchen before Dean explained to her that I'd ruin every dish she'd carefully prepared – I was _not_ amused). Dean and Papa Mark handled the chores for a few hours before joining us inside for a delicious simple brush. He ended up convincing them of a few things before we left: to let him install a phone on both levels of the house, to get a new set of light bulbs, and to change their visit to the city home sooner so that they could see Nai before she went back on tour.

By two o'clock we were standing in front of the gate of the Finnegan farmhouse, holding hands again. This time it felt more like he needed to hold something. Needed to hold something or he'd do something else. When I looked up at him, he had lines on his face that made him look a decade older. I wanted to say something but I had nothing to say. I said nothing. I did nothing. And we walked forward, hand in hand, to use the old-fashioned knocker to announce our presence.

"Dean?" The noise was crackly. "Is that you, son?"

"Yes, sir."

"Come on in."

The heavy gate swung in, and we felt the wards stretch and let us through. My eyes doubled in size (I mean, I'd never been there before). The grass was mostly well-kept, the porch looked clean and the flowers in the front were a splash of wild color in the front. As we walked up to the steps, I don't think Dean realized that his grip on my hand tightened. I couldn't remember what Seamus' parents looked like – I hadn't been to the funeral. Still, I said nothing. There was nothing that I could say.

A figure appeared in the doorway – a small much older man whose watery blue eyes were an exact match for the friend lost. The hair at his temple was going gray early, and his spectacles engulfed half of his face, but Mr. Michael Finnegan stood with a small smile and a welcoming hand.

"Dean," he said as they embraced and pounded each other gently. "Good to see you, son. Good to see you. Who is this?"

"This is one of my best mates, Luna Lovegood."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," I said softly. I smiled when he took one of my hands in both of his. "You have a beautiful place here – I especially love the flowers."

"My wife's lifework." He looked at me. "Do you garden?"

"She does," Dean answered for me. When I shot him a look he looked apologetic. "Sorry, I'll let the lady talk."

"I do, as Dean said. It's my favorite pastime."

"That's good, that's good. Now won't you two come inside?" He held the screen door open and everyone moved inside. "I've been meaning to get over to your grandparents' place for brunch but haven't been able to. The missus has been feeling a little under the weather, you see."

"She has?" Dean sounded alarmed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Nothing to be worried about, son." Mr. Finnegan clapped him on the arm. "A little bit of cough that's almost gone."

It didn't stop Dean – I could feel the anxiety rising off him in barely concealed waves. He pushed ahead and disappeared into the parlor. Neither of us hurried after him. Mr. Finnegan walked slowly and I slowed down to his pace.

"Harry and Dean's mate?"

I nodded.

"But, pardon my asking, are you more than friends?"

"Right, sir," I said with a smile, "I'm also his intended. The arranged marriage law that was passed at the start of summer tied us together."

He nodded slowly, wiping at his watery eyes with a handkerchief from his trousers. "Better a friend than a stranger, eh?"

"I'm very thankful for that. And to be such good friends with him has mean that nothing has really changed. We continue on in the same way we always have."

No photographs on the wall – calm picturesque landscapes of the Irish countryside, rare Muggle still-lives of animals and people but nothing with family members in it. When we rounded the corner to the parlor, I peeked in to see Dean with his arms around a heavyset dark-haired woman in a rocking chair by the far window.

"Stop worrying already," the woman was saying while he rubbed her back. "How many times must I tell you that I feel better?"

"Not enough repetition in the world to make me feel better." He sounded like he was grumbling. "I'm going to see if I can't get a potion for you to speed this 'getting better' thing up. I'll be back here tomorrow morning with it."

"Boy, you don't need to do that."

"Yes, I do! Otherwise I'm going to plant things in the house that will pick up on your conversations."

"You wouldn't dare, you hard-headed little runt!"

I looked behind me. "Do they do this often?"

"All the time." Mr. Finnegan offered a shaky grin. "Times like this we're reminded of the boy we lost in the boys we gained. Harry can't get out here as often but he sends packages along with Dean every week."

I found myself fighting back tears. It was my turn to take one of his hands in both of mine. I meant to offer comfort but I was so shaken by the unfamiliar burning in the back of my eyes that I couldn't do anything. So many people had lost so much and Dean was one of them. The Finnegans and the Diggorys and the Creeveys were some of them. It hadn't been that long at all, and to see him so small but so strong…it really hurt. It hurt and I hadn't one superficial word to say. He understood though.

"Come along with ye," he said hoarsely as I released him. "Meet the missus."

Introductions were made quickly (with Dean latched around Mrs. Finnegan as if he would make her his new home) before I managed to implore Dean to stop asking her about her reasons for not disclosing her flu. After that, we did the same thing we did at Ma'am and Papa's place – split up and split up the chores. Ms. Harriet led me outside to herb & vegetable patch.

"You can mind yourself out here?"

"Yes ma'am," I responded. "I have a garden of my own back home. I'll take care of everything – don't you worry Mrs. Finnegan."

I manifested a comfortable rocking chair and two blankets to wrap her round in. Dean brought out tea, a plate of crumpets and a stool to set it all down next to her. The afternoon passed by under the clear skies – her humming as I worked and the occasional question about my friends and family. She and her husband clearly didn't need a mental bond to arrive at the same conclusion ("You're his fiancée, aren't you? He doesn't bring girls around here.") but she didn't pursue it. Silence. Quiet.

Peace.

"Dean tells me you don't cook so much," she murmured as we moved back into the house. I took her arm to steady her though she didn't really need it. "Take some of the scones with you when you go. Some for you, some for him, you understand?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly-"

"Yes lass, you will." Her firm interruption cut that short. "Just make sure ye pack enough for the both of ye."

"Ah, yes," I smoothed over, "of course, and thank you."

"You're more than welcomed. If you could make sure Dean doesn't tell Harry that I had a little flu either."

"I will do my best," I promised, "but I suspect that it will be beyond me. I'll hold him off for as long as I can though."

"That's the last thing I need," she started grumbling too, "the two of them out here fussing and fighting me."

The look on her face was so purely Seamus that I was startled into laughter. _So purely Seamus._ I could see where Seamus had gotten his expressions from. A little painful to see. Probably even more painful for Dean to see to. I sobered quickly at the thought, then pasted on a small smile when she looked over at me. We continued into the house in silence.

"Good, you're back." Dean, who was floating near the ceiling and looking at something up there, spoke around the wand in his mouth (I didn't ask any questions about that). "It's five thirty and we signed up for the six o'clock QuickPort in the Shires. We're going to have to get going soon."

"You do?" Mrs. Finnegan sounded a bit wistful. When I turned to look at her, her face betrayed nothing. Dean's expression however was a bit of a thundercloud.

"Don't forget I'll be here tomorrow morning," he warned. "I'm bringing my textbooks and I'm camping out here until night-time to ensure you take all the proper doses. And I'm bringing Harry."

Before she could shoot me a look, I held up my hand in a placating motion. I'd had nothing to do with this. Surprisingly she gave him a smile and held a hand out. Dean let himself back down to earth (and because of his incredible height it wasn't all that far to go, really) and engulfed her in his arms.

I found myself following them out of the kitchen, down the short hallway, and into a dining room made out in blues and silvers. Finally – a photograph. The entire family in a portrait on the left wall, when Seamus looked to be a rambunctious five or six year old. A frozen moment, a captured memory…the Finnegans smiling at each other then down at their giggling son. I looked away before I could cry again. I looked at Dean who was leading Mrs. Finnegan to the head of the table where a small feast was laid out.

_You cooked all this?_

**_Some of it. Rest was courtesy of my mama and grand ma'am. _**

"Now, tell him not to touch anything in the kitchen or out in the barn because I'll get to that tomorrow." As he talked, he pulled some of the dishes towards him to start

"Oh, lad, let me get that," she interrupted firmly enough. "I might be getting older but I don't need to be coddled yet."

"Yes ma'am." Mr. Finnegan entered the room and looked a little surprised to see all the food on the table. "And here he is. Luna and I had best take our leave now, then."

He leaned forward to kiss her cheek then indicated the door with his chin. Mr. Finnegan came forward and they shook hands, with Dean promising to return with Harry in tow to take care of the rest of the estate tomorrow and urging him to eat as much as possible before. He was like a mother hen here, fussing over the two of them to make sure they were comfortable enough. Though I call him 'best mate', I hadn't had any idea what he was like around family until this summer. He would be such a good Healer because he was such a natural care-taker. Family over everything – that could be his motto.

The more I saw of him, the more I fell in love with him. These were the moments when I was most dangerous to myself – when my unguarded feelings threatened to drown me whole.

As we left, I slipped an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

"You're a great man, Dean Thomas."

"Not at all." His smile was a little sad when he looked down at me. "Not at all. I only do my best."

"Harry comes here too?"

"He does, twice a month or so."

"I hadn't the faintest idea," I mused. "The secret lives of the 'lads' that I don't know about. What other skeletons are hiding in your closet?"

That finally wrung a laugh out of him.

"None, but if I think of something, I'll be sure to let you know."

"I'm honored that you brought me with you," I said quietly. His response was a warm smile. My heart leapt – my usual sign to gently extricate myself from his hold – but I lingered a moment longer. "Let's head back, Dean. Let's go back home."


	7. Little Lies & Unwanted Surprises

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: I like looking for quotes (mostly, songs and sometimes famous people) that strike me as interesting. Treasure trove finding - the song 'Sure Thing' by Miguel crystallizes Dean's feelings by the end of this story. Listening to it made for lots of 'OhMyGod!' moments. Youtube it! And thank you all for bearing with me as school has restarted and I am slowing down on this story and on my Glass Mask story as well. We have about 11 chapters left to go in this story so things will be picking up and the chapters will be getting longer. Enjoy! =P**

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Chapter 7 – Little Lies & Unwanted Surprises

_"Would knowing how to say 'Stay with me' in cat language help me at all?" – an exasperated Luna to Kit the kitten, a few evenings ago in the garden._

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"Kit, I wish you would stop batting at the mums," I said in frustration. "Why can't you stay still like Cub?"

Energetic as ever, my little kitten paused, looked at me with those big amber eyes, then returned to batting the chrysanthemums down the row. For the umpteempth time, I wished that I could speak cat - or any language that he would understand then sighed (the fifth time in the last hour?) and sat back on my heels. Gardening with Kit was an exercise in how to keep my cool but he was pushing it today. What's more was that Dean's new puppy was over here as well, so dog-sitting in addition was wearing me out. She was beautiful, a pure ebony that was so dark that she shimmered in light, and was as calm as Kit was excitable. One would think that her lethargy would rub off on my kitten - no, one would downright _hope _that that would be the case - but, alas, Kit viewed Cub as a challenging playmate. He threw himself at her in an effort to get her to wake, then jumped around and got into anything and everything under the sun when she failed to rise to the bait. Unfortunately, his getting into everything and anything was creating a mess around the house that I was constantly having to clean up.

Dean had dropped the pup off yesterday before he went off to visit his grandparents again, promising to be back in time to get her tomorrow morning before I had to report to _The Quibbler_. Dear that Cub was, I had no complaints. It was Kit's stepped up antics that were driving me up the wall. Heaven knew that had to be the reason for my most uncharacteristic behavior today - I was never this impatient, never ruffled, never so easy to irritate.

And I was surely irritated today. I was irritated and tired and grumpy and…sad.

Perhaps it was the project that I was working on with Christopher at the office - the combined article writing was turning into a bigger challenge than expected. Or perhaps, the failure of Chris and my day expedition to find Snorcuxles last week. Or perhaps it was because the anniversary of Mum's death was in exactly a month, and she'd been on my mind more often than not in the past week. Or maybe I had gone too long without seeing all my best mates. It was a melancholy that I couldn't shake off…so I'd come out here after working this morning to try and weed it out myself. Suffice to say, it wasn't working. It was probably around two in the afternoon but I wanted to let myself back into the house. I looked around my garden, glared at my errant cat, stroked the fur of my I brushed my hands on my trousers then got to my feet. If two hours among my flowers wouldn't do it, then perhaps I couldn't do it by myself.

"Come on, Kit, Cub."

I waited for the light pad of little feet before I started walking. Back to the house, through the kitchen, past the living room, and up the stairs to get my cell phone. Cub snuffled before she gave an almighty yawn and settled atop the blankets at the foot of the bed. Kit disappeared under the bed (probably to find something to destroy, the furry little hellraiser) and I settled against the headboard to make a call.

"Hullo, mate," Gin answered cheerfully, "haven't heard from you all day. How are you? Are you still coming to dinner at Hermione's tomorrow?"

"I'm alright. Want to come over and help me with Kit and Cub?"

"I'd do anything to spend time with Cub." She must have pulled away from the phone to yell at someone in the background. Probably an errant older brother. "Don't mind that - Fred is up to something that involves one of my favorite dresses and- Don't you _dare, _Fred! I will flay you if you touch that!'

I surprised myself by letting out a laugh. Sounded like the twins would succeed despite her best efforts.

"Gin," I interrupted smoothly, "lock your stuff up with a spell then get over here, pretty please. I'll prepare the fireplace, alright?"

Sounding less than pleased and more than a little aggravated at the world, she agreed and hung up. _One down_, I thought to myself, _another to go._ But before I could flip through caller ID to get to 'Mione's number, the voice of the one person I hadn't thought I'd hear from for a while interrupted me mentally.

**_Luna? _**

I gasped then slammed a mental shield down between my more dangerous emotions and Dean, and prayed that I'd done it fast enough and stealthily enough to escape his notice. This was the other downside to being far away - he was far more likely to slip into my mind than reach for a cellphone that was as far as his trouser pockets.

**_Are you very busy with the kids? _**

I managed a weak mental chuckle (I will freely admit it was two parts relief and one part genuine laughter) before sending him a clip of the afternoon: Cub napping against the far wall of the garden, Kit flitting about in excitement. He laughed.

**_She's been good, I take it, and he's been even antsier than usual, eh? _**

_I haven't had too much trouble. _

**_Sure, you haven't. Is that why you sound tired, my little liar? _**

_Honestly, _I protested, _if I'm tired it's only because I'm feeling a little off today._

**_Are you hurting? Where? _**Instantly he flared in my head: an outpouring of concern and anxiety and a touch of the sternness he'd already displayed. It was nice to be worried about but I didn't want him looking too closely at my memories today. I didn't really feel sick. If I could be honest with myself, the melancholy was wrapped around missing him. He didn't need to know that.**_ Did you lay down yet? _**

_I'm laying down right now so don't worry. __And Ginny's on her way over._

Fingers pressed into the skin of my forehead, hands massaging my temples. Dean was getting adept at send sensations and, clearly, had disregarded my words. I made sure my walls were intact before I gave into a pleased sigh. Who had I been kidding? It was far more than 'nice' to be worried about by Dean, and if I didn't feel the overwhelming need to protect myself from him then I would let him do so more often. So just this once...just this one time. Maybe I could close my eyes and let him have his way for a little bit. Maybe I could pretend he was here, for the moment, and perhaps it wouldn't feel so much like melancholy.

**_Don't go in tomorrow - you have three weeks until print day. _**The pressure moved downwards until I felt him stroking my face. I blinked - and kept half my mind attuned to the wall. At this rate, I'd have to break off contact soon if it didn't hold. **_Let me stay home with you and let me take care of you. And you can continue trying to avoid telling me how the expedition went. Doesn't it sound like a plan?_**

I was silent as I considered the offer. He was dangling the golden Snitch in front of me. How on earth could I say no to that?

**_Pretty please? _**he teased. **_With three cooked meals and me as your personal servant on top? _**

I said a silent sorry to Christopher before -

_Yes, tentatively._

_**Tentatively?**_

_Alright, 'definitely', _I replied.

_**Good. **_He sounded a touch too pleased with himself. _**That's what I like to hear. If I take care of you right, we'll still be able to surprise Hermione tomorrow evening.**_

Hermione had gone from stressed to angry to missing in action in the last two weeks over one Draco Malfoy. The boys, over-protective fools that they were, intended to storm the castle...which really meant that they wanted to eat 'Mione out of hearth and home while she filled us in on how it had been going with everyone's favorite bouncing ferret. From what I could gather, Draco had been doing very well. She'd mentioned something about a first date (which I'd declined to comment on since I was positive that the disastrous affair at the restaurant counted as a date) before running off to Diagon Alley for more textbooks on Healing. Truthfully, I'd been caught up in Dean (drowning, really) and hadn't been too concerned with anyone else's affairs. Ron had decided it would be a good idea for us to just get over to her place when we'd be sure she was home. Everyone had agreed - without her knowledge of course!

_Indeed, _I sent back a bit dryly. _Well, let's hope you live up to that promise._

**_Do I ever disappoint, darling? _**That was the thing...Dean Thomas, Mr. Dependable. He never _did_ disappoint. _**I'll check back in with you before you drift off, alright? I have to run more errands for Grand Ma'am.**_

_Please send them my greetings._

_**I will...besides, you'll be with me from now on, won't you?**_

I thought it safer to send warmth rather than a response, then let the connection go. Perhaps it had been hasty. But it was for the best, and just in the nick of time too, since Gin came sputtering out of the Sunroom's fireplace at that very moment. She looked like a tempest brought to life - all scowls and ash smudges and flying red curls all over the place. A beleaguered yowl sounded from out of my line of sight before I had time to so much as smile at her. I heaved a deep sigh and got off the bed to greet my best mate and see what in heaven's name Kit could have done now.

"Thanks for coming," I said by way of welcome. We hugged, she cleaned off, and I turned to see Kit sitting on something. Broken. That looked suspiciously like...but, it couldn't be, could it? I patted the large pockets of my pocket but heavens, it looked like-

"My wand," I half-moaned as I dropped on the carpet next to Kit. _This_ was why I hadn't kept animals when I was little. _This _was probably why I would be in a terrible mood for the rest of the day. "Kit, you snapped my wand? How on earth did you even get ahold of it?"

I dragged the two thin pieces of what was formerly known as Luna Lovegood's wand together, then looked at my kitten, who for once was sitting still and looking right back at me. When I cocked my head, he did too. Locking him up in a room with her toys was looking so much more attractive to me at the moments. Perhaps, if I moved fast enough, Gin wouldn't even notice his absence.

"What else can you destroy today," I muttered before I heaved another sigh and got to my feet. I'd have to write Olliver's to make an appointment for a new wand. Which was as hard to come by as anything, and I wasn't Harry or Hermione or Neville who had mastered wandless magic by nature or practice or necessity. What I was...was a very _not_ calm Luna Lovegood who would have liked nothing better than to leave the pets and the gardening and the house behind to fly off somewhere to be alone.

Think witch on a broomstick.

"Oh, dear." Gin extracted the remnants of the wand from my hand, then bent down to pick Kit up. "Very bad kitten."

"Very _very_ bad kitten," I muttered darkly behind her.

She arched a brow. "Luna, you are in a completely foul mood. Is it not seeing Dean?"

I blinked and she gave me a commiserating look.

"How-"

"Happens to the best of us. Part and parcel of the binding of couples, really."

"You're not serious."

She motioned me ahead of her into my own kitchen, then got milk for Kit and water for Cub, and quill plus parchment for a note.

"You read the fine details as closely as 'Mione does." Clearly, I hadn't remembered that bit. "And you shouldn't feel angry or incompetent - I wasn't kidding when I said it happens to the best of us. It happens to _all_ of us - boy and girl. Why, read yesterday's Prophet, page three mind you, and you'll see what I mean."

She didn't have to tell me twice. I accio'd the newspaper from wherever it had landed in the house and was on my couch and turning to the third page before she could blink. A funny write-in to the Dear Abby column from a Glenda Marsdale, aged twenty-four from London proper - the woes of being apart from her fiancee. Heavens but Ginny was right - he apparently was on a three-week long business trip somewhere out in South America and the poor woman had found herself unable to get out of bed on day twelve of his trip. He'd apparated back for an hour to stay with her...etcetera, etcetera. I snapped the newspaper shut and stared at the edge of my coffee table.

This was a nuisance. This was more of a nuisance than I'd previously thought. It was a slap in the face to realize that we were tied even more intimately than I'd thought possible.

_This. Is. A. Bloody. Nuisance._

"Did you read it yet?"

I entered the kitchen, holding the newspaper so I could toss it at first opportunity.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"A bloody problem, isn't it?"

"My sentiments exactly." I dropped unto the kitchen stool. "I didn't laugh once while reading it. And the Ministry has yet to make a statement regarding the reversibility of this dependence?"

"Yes...which means, couples who _have _to leave the country to make their living are royally screwed."

"What on earth are we expected to do?"

Gin shrugged, looking more carefree than she had any right to, while putting down to bowls of water for the pets. I knew she harbored a fantasy of becoming a Quidditch player when she was out of school and I supposed the key words were 'out of school'. That would mean she had at least a year before she needed to worry about this little clause. My problem was that it had only been three days - therefore magic effects were out of the question. But if magic effects were out of the question, then that would mean that I just plain missed him. Terribly enough to send my day a little sideways. Which really would mean that the way I felt about Dean were growing faster than I could reign them in.

The blood may have drained from my face.

"You look a little peaky. Are you feeling alright?"

The question went over my head. Had he done anything differently in the last few days? Had I? Because if he hadn't noticed anything amiss then I was still doing an excellent job of masking thinf fgs, but if he had then I would be forced to withdraw even further. What a terrible thought - I wanted to be around him more than half the time but I'd have to cut it out to spare myself further heartache. Maybe tomorrow wasn't such a good idea. Perhaps, I should just go ahead and call it off, maybe I could head to work and stay in the whole day or-

"Luna!" My head snapped up quickly. "You're clearly not listening to me. Go lay down for a nap, since you look so tired. I'll read a book and babysit the pets."

"I'm not tired. I'm thinking."

"You are tired," Gin corrected with a concerned arm. "And thinking too much. I'd like to say that I an read you as well as I can read my brothers, or Harry. You're tired and concerned. What's got you so bothered?"

"I'm trying to puzzle that out for myself."

"You're trying awfully hard. Let me know if you give yourself a brain anyeurism and I'll help you solve it."

I bumped shoulders with her. She was a good friend for trying to tease the truth out of me. Well, she was a _sneakily_ good friend at least.

"So far, I've identified the problem but have no solution. There is _no_ solution and I'm still trying to come to terms with that."

"Sounds like if you looked at the problem from a different angle, it would be a solution in and of itself."

I arched an eyebrow. "Ginerva Weasley, are you trying to sound philosophical?"

"Am I succeeding?"

"Failing miserably."

She burst into laughter. "Damn, it sounded wise in my head!"

I joined in. "Points for trying.

Gin stood to her feet, squeezing my shoulder as she rose. She finally shrugged off her cloak and careless dropped it unto her now-vacated chair. I watched with interest as she flicked her wand and flour, eggs, baking soda floated out of the pantry and sat down in a neat little row on a counter. When had we gotten that big bag of flour? Perhaps - forgive me, it was actually very likely that Dean had done the grocery shopping for us when he was last here. Interesting that I couldn't pinpoint a time, when I had such excellent memory, and that I didn't know. When she flicked her wand again, a small bowl of blueberries manifested next to the rest of the items. This time I had to arch an eyebrow (the Lovegood pantry had fruit?).

"While you puzzle things out, I'm going to make us blueberry muffins." She shrugged on the apron that Dean had bought me as a joke at the end of April. Of course it was unused. Well, at least my best mate looked good in it. "

"Feel free," I said with a sound just short of a lady-like snort.

"Oh, I will." She pulled her thick hair up into a ponytail then shot me a look over her shoulders. "I would also invite you to help but God knows the Lovegood Place wouldn't be able to withstand another fire. Best you sit in place and work on something else."

Good thing she was facing away from me. She missed the lovely glare I aimed her way. After exhausting my minsicule bank of hostility, I sighed and decided to do as she had directed.

Research had centered around investigating a claim made by a dear reader. She'd written into _The Quibbler _two weeks ago with a normal request for validation. Gromelda Errant of Wiltshire had spotted a pair of creatures that looked like crosses between a flobberworm, the Muggle-animal otter, and a miniature hippogriff...Yes, please, take a minute to think about the arrangement of anatomical features that might have gone into the creation of these creatures. I sure had ruminated upon it long enough before Christopher and I had set off to find it. We'd taken rubber boots and cloaks and a heavy supply of anti-itch creams to combat the generous amount of poison ivy in the area. We'd also made sure to spell our clothes and sacks with anti-flammable and anti-permeable spells because the cross might have produced a strange set of abilities.

We went out to the outskirts of rural Wiltshire to see what we could see. We spent all day and most of the evening there. And saw nothing. Nothing to say that these creatures existed. No signs of life, no tracks, just a lot of rural countryside. I was truly feeling a tiny bit discouraged about the state of affairs and had, for now, convinced my partner to abandon further expeditions. He would probably end up convincing me when I was in a more willing mood. As for now, I could only turn myself away from Gin's cooking to settle on trying to craft the article on an entirely different (and pre-existing) creature. It took a little bit of effort on my end - I freely admit that half of my thoughts centered around the failure and the other around Dean - before I got it together and submerged myself.

An hour and forty-five minutes, I had to thank Gin for the suggestion. Working on the article had grounded me as nothing else could, and not even Kit the Maniac could displace the good mood now.

"Solved it?" asked Gin, as she offered me a muffin from the plate.

I shook my head and grinned. "Not going to be bothered about it for a little while."

/-|-\

I don't tell anyone but everytime I head out to see my granparents and the Finnegans, I always end up in this place. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, the sky is merely overcast. When I'm not, it's raining. The rain doesn't matter-

I stand out here for hours in a drizzle or a downpour. Sunshine or cloudy weather. It doesn't matter because I'm here.

The grass is always green here and it always feels as if the earth will suck in whatever it can get. Rain never turns this place to mush, but instead, encourages the land to start using any means necessary to grow. Flowers and vines line the clearing while the trees reach for the skies. In the days immediately after, I couldn't stand to come near the place. Being here for the double burials had been harder than anything I'd ever faced before, including my father's death. It was a blow to the very softest part of me, I guess. Or at least that's what Ginny had described my pain as. In Dean Thomas words, it was hell. The green grass looked unreal. The flowers that showed up every day did as well. As if flowers could bloody well make visitors feel better. Not at all. At least, I didn't feel better.

So I stopped coming.

I dreamed of Seamus and Lavender every single night after I stopped visiting. Three different repeating ones - one for each of them separately, and the last for the two...the day on the lake Sixth Year, the first time I bested Seamus in wrestling, the first time Lavie came to badger me about something my 'good-for-nothing best mate' had done. The last dream always ends with the same memory. On the Monday of the week before the attack, Seamus had told me that he wanted to marry her. Imagine that. Eighteen years old and he already knew part of what he wanted out of life. I don't know what my face reflected at the time but I know that his face was a study in happiness.

Forget the damned war. Forget the lunatic trying to annihilate the world as we'd known it up until then. All of that...forgotten. Seamus Finnegan was the happiest man alive the day he'd decided to pose the question.

I'm not sure why my mind wrapped things up with that memory. When I stopped visiting, I looked at those dreams as damned nightmares. I'd wake up tired, as if I'd run a bloody marathon in the night, and cold and sweaty. My Healing texts now tell me that this kind of thing happen fairly often when loved ones are killed off in traumatizing events. All I knew for the entire eight weeks that I managed to stay away from this place was that Voldemort had cut me at the root. He'd ended dreams, ruined lives, annihilated entire futures.

Good. Fucking. Job.

Before he died, I'm sure he'd clapped himself on the back for a job bloody well done. After he died, the rest of the world only just managed to pick up the pieces. A lot of the older generation on both sides had died. Half of the teaching staff at Hogwarts had been mortally wounded all during the war - Mundungus, Kingsbolt, Emmeline Vance to name a few. By the end, Dumbledore's Army was leading the charge, with a half-mad Harry in the front. People like Hannah Abbott and me, who couldn't recover from the death of loved ones, were a little insane as well. I would have killed off whole families without batting an eye if I hadn't had Neville and Luna to keep me grounded. None of the rest could reach me. Those two were all that kept me together. The end of the War came about seven weeks too late for my best mate.

I hated living afterwards. Every sound was something to be investigating, every look from a stranger was a reason to slam him up against a wall, all my dreams allowed me no rest. I was a bloody mess. Being so tired after waking up didn't help my anger. The world was too cruel. To take away an only son and a lively daughter...let's just say that the gentle giant disappeared for a long time. What brought me back to this site? I missed them. I was tired of remembering them angrily. I didn't much like myself after. I didn't want to stay secluded, or avoid friends and family.

I apparated out here in pajamas ( I probably looked like a less reputable taller Mundungus Fletcher after he'd been in his cups) with reddened eyes and week-old nightshadow and just...stopped. Part of that was apparting to a place so far away had drained me of energy but damn...the relief I felt to be there was overwhelming. It was the first time I sat out here silently but it wasn't the last.

Sometimes, like today, I sit down next to the two mounds of earth and lay back and stare up at the gray skies. Most times there's blue on the other side of the grey and, if I squint really hard, I can even make out the sun. Remember how I used to hate seeing the fresh flowers on their graves? Luna, who I suspect knows where I'm taking them, let's me take as much as I want from her garden. I get as many colors as I can so that the beauty of them will put the wildflowers around the clearing to shame. Other times I remain standing and I just talk. Talk about preparing for exams, talk about how whatever has happened in the three weeks since I've visited. I wonder what Seamus would have said about me being with Luna. I even found myself relating 'Mione's encounter with Draco at . I'm sure they would have laughed, and Lavender probably would have teased Mione mercilessly.

I never say that I miss them. It's a fact, not an opinion. It's one of those things I don't feel the need to say. I'm sure they know that wherever they are.

"You're back?" Grandmama was fussing before I could fit myself through the doorway. "And you didn't even take a cloak this time. I hope you don't catch a cold before you get home tonight. And you're late! You have fifteen minutes to get everything down here and out the door, you know.

I had to laugh - she was going to be scolding me up until I left to make the 6 o'clock Port-Key schedule

"It's alright, Grandma'am, I'll make it. In fact, let me get my luggage down." I looked around the foyer. "Where's Granddad?"

"In the kitchen."

"What is it this time?"

A smile creased her face. "Experimenting with dumplings."

For reasons only best understood by the man himself, Grandpa had decided to boot his wife out of the kitchen for a week because he claimed that she was 'doing too much'. Which was code for he didn't like to see her on her feet. Which was translated into confusion because while my grandfather would probably survive abominably well if left to his own devices, he hasn't done anything like this for over two years. Grandmama and I could only watch from the perimeters of the living room all week. Still, every meal he'd issued out of his recently acquired favorite place had been more than decent. Grandmama was even joking about keeping him locked up in there. Too bad I couldn't stay an extra day to enjoy anything else.

"Who's experimenting?" We turned to see the man himself carrying my things down the stairs. He reached the foot of them safely, rolled my trolley to a stop, and handed me a sack. "

"You didn't say no to the dumplings."

"Because more than half of what I made is in that bag untop of your trolley." He didn't blink an eye. "And you have less than ten minutes left to reach the Port-A-Key Stop. If you don't leave right now-"

"I'm going, I'm going." I clapped Grandad on the shoulders and drew Grandmum into a hug before she could open her mouth to start fussing again. "Don't forget to have that follow-up with Doc Kensey. And leave Grandad to the cooking since he does it so well."

"Oh, I'm old not senile," she sniped, while the future master of the kitchen shared a look with me. "Get on with you."

My dearest grandfather was more correct than I'd thought he would be. I did get there late and I almost missed that damned thing. One headlong tumble unto the platform, a whirlwind trip through space and an apparition later, I was standing in the underground of the Ministry. What to do next? The obvious answer was to go home, of course, so I apparated-

And found myself outside of the Lovegood Pllace.

Do you know that the first thing that crossed my mind, upon seeing the familiar buttress of the roof and the pretty winding ivy curling around the base of the left side, was why there wasn't any smoke coming out of the chimneys? Only after that did I find myself surprised by my location. I'd meant to go home but clearly hadn't thought of the right place. I couldn't even recall making a decision to get here which means that I could have bloody well splinched myself with my half-assed thoughts. Damn but I must have been tired.

But since I was here already, I was going to go up.

I'd gotten very used to letting myself in and out of the Lovegood Place in the last month or so, and although I wasn't expected, the safeguarding shields still let me inside. Faint light flowed out from underneath the front door and a light was on upstairs in what looked like the Sunroom. I climbed the stairs, sighing happily, before I abandoned my shoes and my trolley and the half-eaten paper bag of goodies from Grandfather at the door. The house was warm despite the fact that it must have rained this morning. When I investigated the parlor, I found open windows. Strange - it was a bit damp outside and the cold air was flowing in but the house remained warm. I shrugged that one off and proceeded to stick my head in the kitchen. Empty. I made a kissing noise, hoping to get Kit and Cub if they were down here but I wasn't rewarded for my efforts. No one down stairs, no sound coming from the experimental room which meant Mr. Lovegood wasn't on the premises, but light upstairs. I wanted to surprise Luna, and I was hoping that her mind hadn't alerted her to my presence especially since I'd been trying to clamp it down as much as possible, so I took the stairs three at a time and padded silently down the hallway.

Maybe Ginny had already left? Maybe Luna was already sleeping?

I rounded the bend in the hallway and found the door to her pretty yellow Sunroom ajar. Finally, another living being!

"Kit," I said, bending low to pick the kitten up. He was always energetic - I'd just bet anything he was the reason Luna had sounded tired today. It certainly wasn't from my black labrador - although Cub was lovely and friendly, she was also exceedingly laid back. She much preferred sleeping in a sun-brightened patch of carpet to running around. And Kit loved the challenge of getting Cub excited enough to run around with him...or after him, as the case I might be. I chucked said kitten under the chin, stroked his fur, did all the necessary things to get him to lie still in my arms before I crossed the room to push the door open. The puppy was fast asleep at the foot of the bed. Luna was almost asleep at the head of it. The sight both worried and warmed me. I'd never seen Luna lay down willfully to take a nap but she was a little hump buried underneath the

"Well hello there, stranger." Her voice was soft and a little hoarse. Damn it, she really was sick. Why hadn't she said something? "I wasn't expecting you another twelve hours or so."

"I know." I dropped Kit on the bed and sat down as she made space for me. I palmed her face to check for temperature - significantly higher than normal and she was sweating. I was now more than a little worried, and rather angry that she hadn't called. I knew it was in Luna's nature to handle things by herself, since she'd been on her own for more years than I cared to count, but I also knew that "But I had this feeling that I needed to come a bit early."

"A bit? Did you?"

Something about the way she said it made me answer truthfully.

"I meant to go home first but I came here first." I watched her push the hair back from her face and huddle further even under the blankets. She opened her eyes to pin me down with that blue blue gaze. And then, I suppose, she got tired of holding her lids up and closed them again. "And just in time sine you, my little mute, couldn't find the voice to tell me that you were sick."

"All I need is a little bit of sleep."

"And all I need is for you to do me the courtesy of telling me when you need me."

"I don't-" I stared at her, even as she cut off the flow of words, knowing that the words came of habit. An uncomfortable silence arose before she opened her eyes and gazed at me. "All I need is a little bit of sleep."

If I could have railed at her, I would have. But she looked so sleepy and tired that the anger was seeping away before I could get enough going for a good rant. My hands stroked the hair back from her face - once, twice, three times - before I let all the scolding I'd wanted to do dissipate. She didn't need anger - what she needed was-

"A Medi-Wizard. And you are in luck since I happen to fulfill that role," I muttered. "Are you still cold?"

"A little bit." Which in the sparse language of Luna Lovegood more likely meant 'a lot'. "But-"

"Just let me take care of you now," I said soothingly. I cupped her face. "Haven't you already promised to let me handle everything? I understand I'm a little early" - here she smiled a little - "but that just means more time for you to be pampered. You're very ill and very tired and I need you well enough to walk around tomorrow. Not to speak of getting to Hermione's place in the afternoon."

"Okay," she said simply.

"Good." I rose steadily, careful to disturb neither Luna or Cub who was still fast asleep. "I'll be right back."

Kit tumbled down the stairs with me, getting in the way more often than not, so that the soup I'd made took a few minutes longer than planned. I was worried that if Luna truly fell asleep before I returned upstairs, she would have a hard time becoming alert enough to ease some of it into her system. I managed to squeeze a phone call to Mama in between whirling around the kitchen, and even got one off to Ron so that my roomates would know that I had made it back to the city safely. Right before the soup finished simmering on the stove, I headed downstairs to see what sort of potions Mr. Lovegood had on hand that could be used for medicinal purposes. I must note that my puppy wandered in to sniff the air curiously then wandered back out to do whatever it is that puppies do in their spare time in the evenings. Kit wandered away as well (probably another feline attempt to irritate her) and I was left in peace to laddle some of the chicken soup into a small bowl, pour some water into a tall glass and bring the whole thing up on a platter to my poor sick best mate.

"Are you still awake? I brought you something to eat." I nudged the door open with a foot and strode across the room to settle. The lump in the blankets twitched. Good, she was still awake. "Do you think you might be able to manage sitting up, sweetheart?"

The sound that came from her was somewhere between a delicate protestation and a low groan.

"Interesting, I don't think I've ever heard you make that sound before." I whispered a floating spell so that the tray was suspended mid-air while I got busy clearing off a small side-table. "But that still sounded more like a no than a yes. Do try and sit up before I get done with this."

She didn't even bother with a response this time, so I was left to alternate between laying heavy knit scarfs and thin books down on the floor that was unusually clean (Ginny had probably whirled right through this place) and cajoling her into sitting up. I allowed myself a verbal cheer when she finally pushed her way into a sitting position, then allowed myself another one when she moved over to make space for me on the bed.

"I want you to at least eat some of it, even if you don't feel like you have much of an appetite."

"Thank you for doing this," she said with a weak but warm smile. I said nothing but placed the bowl in her hands. Her fingers shook slightly when I handed her the spoon, but rather than point them out (when I knew she hated to , I held unto the cup of water. I watched her carefully as she ate - Was the soup good for her? Was it too hot or too cool? Was she thirsty and in need of water? Did she seem cold? Was she getting tired of holding her bowl? Or sleepy? Was she in pain? - and took it from her when I'd deemed she'd had enough. Then I got an extra blanket out of her closet to tuck her in, in addition to her bed's regular blankets. Her smile was stronger this time. "Really, Dean, I can't thank you enough."

I settled back into the bed and she lifted the covers so that at least a little bit of me was covered. I didn't even think twice about shifting closer to her, and before I quite knew how it had happened, we were vertical on the bed and my arms were wrapped around her and she was burrowed as close to me as she could get while being swaddled in an extra blanket. When had I gotten this comfortable with being comfortable around her? And why on earth hadn't she said a thing about being cold all this time? The soup must have helped but she was shivering a little even with all the extra heat that I was probably putting off. I pulled the sheets over us with one hand and pulled her flush against me with the other. Just like that time in the garden after I'd yanked her down, just like the time up in Hermione's room before we'd kissed - I was hit by an overwhelming sense of 'rightness'.

"Don't mention it again," I murmured into the crown of her head. "Just concentrate on getting well quickly. The world needs you up and running as soon as possible."

Silence.

I looked down, already knowing what I'd see before I did. She made a pretty picture, all that corn-yellow was spread out on the blankets and short pale (almost invisible, really) eyelashes sticking out against her cheeks. My hands tangled in her hair for a moment - straight and silky and cool even with the extreme warmth of the room. How she fell asleep so quickly was beyond me - I _still_ found it impressive that she could drop off so easily.

_Oh well,_ I thought. _She needs the rest._

And I suppose I did too because the next thing I knew I was out like a like light too.

/-|-\

There wasn't enough oxygen in the room to help me calm myself when I opened my eyes the next morning. The last thing I recalled from last night was the feeling of contentment that can only stem from a full stomach and a comfortable bed. What I didn't remember was how I came to be all sorts of wrapped around Dean Thomas and how that could have led to waking up in his arms. Low blood pressure usually slows me down when I rise to conscious - I rise in stages, becoming more and more aware of my surroundings and emerging about three fourths alert. This morning the low blood pressure hadn't dulled my senses as much as it should have, and I was almost fully alert. Or aware.

Whatever you might call it, I needed more air than the shallow breaths I was taking in.

_Calm. _I needed to be calm because, according to Ginny, the bond was strong enough to wake your other half up if you were in close proximity. I needed some sort of plan before that happened and I had to calm down and _make_ one before Dean became conscious._ Slow and even breathing._

First and most immediate was the question of what to do when he woke up. There were two questions to be answered as soon as possible: would I be able to worm my way out of his arms without waking him up? Normally, I would risk escaping him except Dean was neither a very heavy or very light sleeper. This translated in a 50/50 chance of a sudden rise to consciousness on his part before I could fully extricate myself. Which would land me in the exact situation that I meant to avoid. So now two options were left to me - to pretend, or to not pretend. But could I pretend well enough? Hadn't I already noted that Dean was an expert reader of body language? And how well would the bond shut out the fact that I was awake? And, heavens, could I sit there and not blush and keep my breath steady and-

_I can't._ Realistically, the odds that I would give nothing away being face to face in bed with him were as low as the odds that I would find myself on the London Muggle stage. So, to backpedal all the way to the beginning, my only option (indeed the only viable choice, now) was to get out bed without waking him.

I could tell you that it didn't take me an entire ten minutes to find away to arrange my limbs and shift out of his embrace. I could tell you that I managed it without once falling back unto the bed then hushing myself violently in the confines of my own head. I could just as well say that there wasn't a moment where I found myself staring at his lips and wondering if he would take this morning position as a chance to kiss me again. Then I could finish up the tale by saying that I was as cool and collected as usual, and completely cured of fever by the time I got myself to the doorway. I could spin you stories but...it would all be a bald lie. I will concede this - if Gin or 'Mione had been here to watch the way I got out of bed, they would have urged me into the circus...I might never contort my body into those shapes ever again.

I was breathless and sweaty and hungry and _relieved_ when I finally made it through the Sunroom and down the hallway. Daddy must have remained at work last night to work on outline changes because the house was as quiet as it could be in the early morning. Kit and Cub accosted me at the bottom of the stage, making pitiful noises that probably had something to do with food and I stopped to stroke them both. When I got downstairs, I got out food and water for them and watched them eat (they were absolutely adorable) and then let them out of the front door to play on the lawn. I returned to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove to make the one thing that I would _probably _end up making well on my own. Tea. I laid my head on the rough wood of the kitchen table and thanked heavens for successful avoidance of a bad situation.

_How utterly terrible could that have turned? _I had no way to judge what Dean's reaction would have been. I snuffled. _Knowing him...anything._

Thankfully the ache in my head had gone away and my throat didn't feel nearly as scratchy as it had before. The adrenaline that had gotten me through the situation would fade soon and leave me almost as tired as I had been last night. I pressed my face into the wood and tried to think quietly to myself. Everyday I thought I couldn't like him more and everyday I was shocked anew. I hadn't wanted him to know I was tired and he could tell I was lying even through the bond. I had purposefully said nothing about the fever and he'd happened to stop by. Literally nursed me back to health. It sounded so trite and girlish and idiotic...maybe I could just quit the Quibbler altogether and take myself off to the country to write ladies' romance novels? I sighed.

_How much harder is this going to become for me?_ The effort to be carefully bland was draining me when I was with him but I couldn't help but want to be around him. I was becoming self-conscious too - do I look alright? What's my hair doing? Did he say he liked me in blue? - and I fell prey to blushing every once in a while. That kiss had made everything that much more complicated. Feelings that run rampant are as difficult to reign in as a brood of angry mother dragons...add in the physical and the angry mother dragons had eggs to worry about. I still believed that the kiss had been a mistake. At first, my reason centered around the temptation that it represented. We were always touching - when I could steel myself up for it, I allowed him to hold my hand because pulling away would take too much time to explain - and intimacy presented a problem to the barrier.

I was still worried about Lavender. Dean didn't talk about her at all. Nothing to let me know one way or another that he felt anything for her but I thought about her all the time. I found myself reexamining his statements unceasingly. I had never been the type of female to fall prey to a moment's feeling of inferiority but I felt like I was constantly comparing the two of us in my head. I swear I hadn't been able to help myself from glancing through his wallet - yes, Lavie's photo was still there. Her thick dark hair doing something feminine and pretty in the wind of a long-gone day, her smile wide and generous, 'pretty as picture'. Jealousy? Nothing quite so simple. I was mature enough to acknowledge that whatever he felt for her had been before me. How could I compare when he'd known her for so much longer than he had known me? My self-worth wasn't suffering in the sense that I felt unworthy of him...not at all. It was just that I couldn't compete with someone who'd come before me.

_How can I compare? _I propped my head up and stared into empty space. _It's not about worth. It's just that I don't know how to fight ghosts._

That's the truth of the matter - I had no idea how the imperfect reality of me could compare to the perfect memories of her.

The low-pitched whistle of the kettle moved me out of my morbid thoughts and into the present. I stood and blinked. The only answer to that first question was this: it wasn't going to become easier. But I had to cope to protect myself. It was just as Gin had cautioned - I wanted a guarantee. I wouldn't expose the bare bones of my feelings without knowing that they would be returned. Never.

"You're up?"

Dean startled me so badly that I did the clumsiest thing I'd done in weeks. I knocked the kettle clear off the stove. Hot water hit the floor, then splashed the front of my sleeping robe since I hadn't been fast enough to dodge it completely. I couldn't completely muffle the groan that escaped my throat on impact.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry." Dean was across the room and dropping to his knees before my brain fully registered the movement. He yanked the hem of the robe up, cupped the leg, and muttered a quick fix spell before the heat could set in and blister. A second spell dried the water on the floor and steamed my clothes, and a third one refilled the kettle and returned it to the stove. His face was such a firm mix of worry and extreme contrition that I couldn't do much more than blink. He smoothed out the dress absentmindedly as he turned that gaze on me. "I'm supposed to be helping you get better - not confining you to further bedrest!"

"You fixed it so fast - it's alright."

"God, I'm sorry, sweetheart." I sighed at both endearment and the warmth in his gaze. Then sighed again when he rose to his full height but was distracted by his voice again. "Does it feel better?"

"It's fine. I'd only wanted to make tea."

Did that sound as terse to him as it did to me? The resounding answer was an affirmation since he paused to look me full in the face as if he had no idea what to say next. I bit back a wince. _Well, that makes two of us..._I cleared my throat and stepped away from him to sit down at the kitchen bench again. After a moment's hesitation, he followed.

"How are you feeling?" His warm hands touched my face then tilted my head from side to side. I prayed for him to stop. "You're much cooler than you were last night. No sweating, no flush. That's good."

"You're good at this." He looked surprised. I felt moved to continue. "You'll be an excellent Healer, you know."

His smile in response claimed a little bit more of my heart.

"Right!" I stood abruptly and smoothed out my dress. I was moving towards the exit faster than a sick person ought to have been. "I'm feeling more the thing right now so I'll just go right up and take a quick bath, if that's alright with you?"

The shower was shorter than I would have wished - I'd meant to spend at least an hour in there but it was closer to twenty-five minutes. That same self-consciousness had me smearing on a bit of clear gloss on the lips and running a comb hurriedly through my messy hair. An over-sized thick black cardigan that felt comfortable but Gin claimed was fashionable and the baggy dark grey sweatpants that 'Mione had gotten me about a month ago. I reentered the kitchen and was rewarded-

"You look prettier than you have any right to," he said with a smile. I flushed. Predictably. He motioned me over to the sofa and made room. "I already brought the tea out here so sit down and get as snug as you want."

I smiled at him over the rim.

"Did I remember to say thank you for last night?"

He nodded.

"And this morning?"

"I'd wondered if I'd manage to make you angry so early in the day."

"When have you ever made me angry?"

"Never." He picked up his own tea mug, his . "I'm wondering what it would take to get you truly furious."

"With you or with anyone?"

"Are those two different answers?"

I answered carefully, sensing a trap that I couldn't see outright.

"I'm not very sure."

"Not sure?" His head dipped to the side curiously. "You're the surest person I know."

"I am?" This was a surprise. "Really?"

"You are." This time he offered a smile above the rim of a mug. "While Hermione might be a walking-talking-encyclopedia, her logic sometimes undermines her. You, on the other hand, may not know everything but always appear unmoved. I've actually always admired that trick of yours. It's not even so much that you are 'unmoved'. I suppose it looks like you absorb the information but it isn't life-changing...I can't explain it very well."

It was nice to know that I kept calm under all situations. I motioned him onward with a wave of my hand.

"You know, when we first became acquainted with each other, I remember Neville telling me that nothing ever gets past you. I can count the number of times I've seen you amazed on one hand. Half the time, you're inscrutable. I can never completely sure that what I _think_ you're thinking is _actually_ what you're thinking."

I didn't know how to respond to that so I blew on the still hot liquid in my hands.

"See?" he exclaimed. "That right there is an example! Are you silent because you agree or because you disagree? Did you completely not approve my system or is that you don't have anything to say? Or perhaps you actually _want_ me to think all of the above and are being silent on purpose so-"

I laughed.

"You think far too much."

"I think far too little," he muttered. "And what I _do_ think, you neither corroborate or deny."

"Save what little thinking power you have for your exams, then."

He snorted and muttered something under his breath that sounded uncannily like 'damned mysterious'. I hid a wide smile in finishing the rest of the still-hot tea before speaking.

"I'm a rather simple girl, Dean - I don't need or want wealth like the Malfoys, or thirst after knowledge like Hermione, or to be a famous Quidditch Player or anything like that. There's nothing wrong with pursuing any of those because they are all worthy goals to have." I brushed hair out of my face and gazed at the boy across from me. "I've never desired anything like those and I'm sufficiently self-aware to know that I like simplicity. All I want is my family and my work. They fulfill every need - everything besides them is an extra blessing."

A flash of something not easily defined crossed Dean's face. He wanted to say something, it looked like, but he was weighing his words, or maybe judging the wisdom of saying anything at all.

"I went to see them."

He didn't have to identify the 'them'.

"Yesterday?"

He nodded, then shifted so that he was stretched out so that his legs were dangling over the side of the chair's arms and his head was in my lap. I couldn't tell whether he moved because he didn't want to look me full in the face as he spoke, or if he needed to move because the subject matter made him less than comfortable. I accepted both or either as reason, bit back the small flare of _something_ that always popped up when Lavender came up, and offered what comfort I could. He needed it.

"I've known you've been going for a while." I stroked his short hair.

"A few months now." He looked up at me with a half-smile that looked sad. "I suspect that you and Neville have known from the beginning."

He wasn't right about that (Neville had understood Dean's initial withdrawal from the world after the Final Battle but I'd been worried). Nev had had his own grief to nurse: his fierce grandmother had passed on of natural illness near a few weeks before the end. By the time, Dean had emerged from his cocoon, almost a month had passed. We hadn't said a single thing when he'd come wandering into a Sunday dinner at the Burrow looking grass-stained and peaceful. He was back. It had been all that mattered.

"How long did you visit for?"

"A whole afternoon."

For a long time, we sat in silence. I touched as much of him as I could reach, trying to ease this sad pensive mood that had fallen, and he turned his face into my stomach. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hold him closer. I wanted him to know that I wouldn't think him any the weaker if he wanted to cry too. And I wanted to tell him I loved him. I didn't know what to do or if to do anything. I did nothing. I was overwhelmed by the strength of my feelings and cowed into silence by them.

"Temperature check."

Dean rolled unto his back, suddenly, and the switch from serious conversation to serious Medic threw me off.

"What?"

I barely had time to throw up a wall before he cupped my face suddenly.

"Temperature check," he repeated. ""Still cool. Do you need anything at all? What would you like to eat?"

"If I said that I wanted iced pastries, would you make me some?"

Well, that dubious look on his face was all the answer I needed.

"How about I make us a big spread for breakfast?" He glanced outside. "Or brunch, rather. It must be getting close to noon. Enough for the three of us."

"Iced pastries?" I asked hopefully.

He sighed and, without answering one way or another, headed into the kitchen. I grinned to myself. That had been the sigh of the defeated - I was certainly going to get those pastries before the day was done.

/-|-\

The call from Ginny came two hours into a comfortable silence in which I was reading with my head in Luna's lap and my feet propped on a tall coffee table next to the sofa chair. Ginny was rushing ("Hurry up - we want to be there soon!) and we needed to get to Hermione's as soon as possible. Luna traded her sweatpants in for jeans that fit so well that I had to drag my eyes away from the curve of her backside before I made a spectacle of myself, which...well, the only ending I see to that is either me getting slapped or me getting slapped. I busied myself by saying goodbye to our kitten and puppy, then lost track of time so that Luna had to come out unto her lawn to get me. By the time we apparated to the front of 'Mione's studio apartment, we were fifteen minutes later.

"Well, look who's finally here," huffed an angry Gin. She looked ready to hit me though she pulled Luna into a hug. "I'm guessing Dean is the reason why we didn't get to bombard Hermione in a timely fashion?"

There was no right answer to that. I took myself off before she could morph into a bat and fly in my face. Or whip out her wand and hex me.

"Is it really that big of a deal?" I muttered to Harry, Ron and Neville.

"She's been in a bad mood all day." Harry shrugged. "I recommend keeping your mouth shut and staying out of her way."

"And did that work for you?"

"Not at all."

"Let's go." Ginny flounced up the stairs of the appartment with Luna at her side but stopped short abruptly. It wasn't hard to see why when we all gathered at the top and peered over their heads.

"Holy fuck," someone breathed out loud. "What the hell?"

The place looked like it had been trashed - the front door was blown half off the hinge and wall paintings for the short corridor leading to the living room were ripped and on the floor. Immediately, we assumed something of the defensive formations that had gotten us safe through the War. I experienced a moment's hesitation when I caught Luna's widened eyes but I pushed it away.

_Don't worry._

I squeezed her hand then let go.

We moved forward, food abandoned at the front door, before Neville (who was the quickest thinking on his feet) instructed Hermione to cast a primary group shield. Harry pushed ahead to the living room where the most chaotic scene met our eyes. Hermione, apparently unconscious, was crumpled on the floor of the far wall. Her hair was everywhere, broken pottery surrounded her, and a bright red smear of blood stood out starkly against the cream paint of said wall. Draco Malfoy was going absolutely wild on what looked like it _had been _a man, below him. His victim was letting out pitiful cries that were neither gibberish or English or any language that I recognized. So much blood everywhere...there was blood splattered over the man's swollen face, shirt down the front of Malfoy's cloak, soaked into the carpet underneath the man's head.

"Malfoy!"

As one, everyone broke formation and sprinted forward. We dragged an insensate Malfoy off the broken bloody man while Gin and Luna rushed around us to get to Hermione. I shook him hard enough to snap a neck and he seemed to look past me, through me, around me as if I were invisible.

"What happened?" Ron yelled, wrapping an arm around the bloke's waist while he struggled to be rid of us. "What happened?"

Nothing. No response, no sign that he even knew that we were here. We managed all of two feet before the blond somehow broke free. A second try proved equally as fruitless.

"She has a broken wrist and she's not breathing right - we're taking her to St. Mungoes!" I barely heard in's voice over the din and someone must have responded because she shut up after that. Heat blasted my back - fire from the fireplace - and the green glow of but I couldn't be bothered since Malfoy had managed to clip Ron in the face as well in a successful bid to return to the man. The man was lots of yelling and more broken furniture and broken bones, Luna appeared out of nowhere and simply hit Draco with a complex binding spell that made him collapse unto the carpet. Even as he lost consciousness, a hand was reaching towards the bloke. Jesus, it was chaos. Then Gin, Harry, Neville and I were left to knock him out with four different stunning spells before the brute's eyes rolled back in his head.

When I could take stock of the situation, Ron was gone. Hermione was gone. Luna was gone too. All that was left was to carry Malfoy to St. Mungoes to join his fiancee in the hospital. And worry about what on God's green earth could have led to the mess that we'd strolled into. Luna found me at the end of a hallway leading to the bathroom with a wet cloth and a cup of water in hand.

"Are you alright?" She carefully wiped and closed the cut with her wand, then handed me the water to drink. "Where else do you hurt? Did he say anything?"

I shook my head and pulled her under my arm.

"Nothing. We couldn't get anything out of him and he nearly killed that man. What about Hermione?"

"Snapped wrist, mild concussion and bruised ribs." She looked up at me. Only the narrowness of her gaze betrayed anxiety. "She's still unconscious and they'll be keeping her overnight to regrow the bones. Ron's alerting the adults and Harry's sent an owl off to Malfoy Manor to let Draco's mum know."

"What the bloody hell happened? What _happened_?" She shook her head helplessly. "I suppose we can't wake Draco to find out after all those spells thrown at him. He's in no condition to be reenervated. And the man?"

"Critical condition - they are four Healers attending him."

"Jesus," I swore softly. "How bad is it?"

"Nineteen broken bones and counting, so far." Luna bit her lip. "Both arms are broken in two places...his face is so swollen that they can't make out anything besides his mouth and the remnants of a nose. Malfoy really did something."

"He must have been protecting her but-"

"Oi." Ron poked his head out of the waiting room door. "She's in the clear. We can head to her room."

I wasn't aware that I had tightened my grip on Luna until she rubbed my arm gently.

"Don't worry. It'll come out alright."

_God knows it needs to be. _I smiled half-heartedly and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head before pulling us down the hallway. It was going to be a very long afternoon, and an even longer night. As we made dropped in behind with the rest of the anxious group, I flattened my lips into a thin line. I couldn't help but remember the Final Battle.

_Please let Hermione be all right. Please let this not be a prelude to another War._


	8. The Hits That Keep Coming

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: The dialogue isn't supposed to match up evenly, and it was quite difficult writing this cross scene. Also, for some reason, only Luna was talking to me today. Dean was pretty quiet! We have about 11 chapters left to go in this story so things will be picking up and the chapters will be getting longer. Enjoy! =P**

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Chapter 8 – The Hits That Keep Coming

_"It's just one Bludger after another, I tell you!" - Dean, jokingly to Neville, during a Quidditch match at the Burrow_

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"I can't believe that psycho. How did he follow them to her house so sneakily?"

We had stayed overnight in the waiting room while Hermione's fractured wrist and rib, and concussed head were returned to prime state. Hermione's parents had been called, of course, and Harry had thrown his weight around enough to get the Ministry to issue a temporary visa for them into St. Mungos. Although the Boy Who Lived hated to use his superstar status to get over red tape, this was one time that Harry had been desperate enough to do anything to get around closed doors. Even though the Grangers had been here the day Hermione had cracked her head on the ice cream parlor table, it had still taken up to twenty-four hours to get the papers in order. And much had happened that day.

First, Draco Malfoy had woken up from the overload of Calming Draught. Second, he'd explained the little he knew the Healers who'd relayed it to us. Hermione had been attacked, which I'd suspected, but Malfoy had come into the situation with Hermione already unconscious...meaning we needed to wait for Hermione to wake up to get the full story. Thirdly, the Aurors had done enough investigative to turn up the attacker's name - Anthony Looton from Taunton. Obscure, off-the map, no real info on the man.

We'd handled the last few hours in shifts - half had to pen notes to family to let them know what had happened and Dean volunteered to go back home first to feed the pets while I met up with Daddy at the _Quibbler_ headquarters quite briefly. While home he'd run across my wand...which Kit clearly had not broken, which didn't explain why on _earth _I'd thought that he had broken it since...now that I think about it, I didn't see any sign of the unicorn core. Clearly, I had been more off than I'd thought.

Now, everyone was gathered inside and outside the private waiting room. The twins had sent notes ahead, promising to drop by at the end of the working day, and Mr. & Mrs. Weasley were keeping the Grangers ompany outside. Dean had gone back to my place to put food out for the pets and had apparently found my wand out in the garden (which made no sense because Kit had snapped something but apparently I hadn't been well enough to notice?). At present, Hermione looked much healthier than she had the day before. Her cheeks were pink and she looked as if she were napping peacefully, instead of painfully. Harry had an arm around Ginny, who was sitting down near the bed, trying to reassure her after her words.

"They never suspected," Harry whispered back. "Who would?"

"Malfoy gave that bastard a pretty good pounding." Ron actually cracked his knuckles with a snarl. "And I would have helped if I had known just what the hell was going on at the time."

"This is unbelievable. Something like this happening after the War."

"Indeed," I murmured. I couldn't get anything more than a smile out of the room. "But Hermione is a strong girl. She'll be just fine."

Neville's face had been shuttered the entire duration of the visit. That torture bout with Bella Lestrange, before DA rescue, had nearly done him in - he'd been withdrawn and sick and had experienced such rapid weight loss that we'd been worried. He never gained it all back. He never showed anger or outrage or hostility anymore. He had a long thin scar that spanned his spine as a souvenir of those hellish three days. And he was as tough as dragon scales, as tough as Hannah, and much tougher than he'd ever need to be again.

"Guys?" The fighter was conscious and hoarse - and the room took a collective deep breath. Strangely, none of us were inclined to rush the bed. We hung back - every one of us - as if by waiting for her to say something we would know what to do. "Guys, I'm perfectly fine. Stop looking at me as if I am going to shatter into a million pieces if I move even a fraction of a centimeter either this way or that."

While I was convinced, no one else looked too sure about it.

"Are you sure?" questioned Ron.

"Of course," Hermione said easily. "Now, why don't some of you help me sit up? Guys, this is _not_ my funeral and I'm not going to spin off into depression."

Silence. She sighed and asked after the time.

"It's about 12:15," I answered. "You slept right into Monday. How are you feeling right now?"

"Very sore. But nothing's broken," she said while feeling her wrist gingerly. "Where are my parents?"

"We called them and told them that you got into a spot of trouble," explained Ginny, "but you're fine."

"Of course," said Harry with a small chuckle. "You're mother was out in the waiting room and giving the Healers a hell of a hard time last night. Your father calmed in stages, and told us to tell you to call them as soon as you get home."

"They left about fifteen minutes ago," added Neville.

"Good, even though I seem to be in the hospital more than usual these days…I really didn't want to worry them but it seems unavoidable."

"What do you remember?" asked Dean.

"I remember that I got home, but for some reason, I had Malfoy's jacket. He hadn't taken it, and so when the doorbell rang about five minutes after he'd left I thought it was him coming to take the jacket back…Needless to say," - and here she started to laugh but it turned sharp and pained - "needless to say, it wasn't him."

"It took us the better part of an hour to get him to talk," said Harry. "We had to him with more than _five_ different spells to get him off of that bloke."

"And even then," said Neville quietly, "It was a near thing. The chap is in a separate ward with a shattered face and twenty-three bones broken. Twenty-three…"

Hermione was shocked and silent for a little while then-

"I remember being crumpled at the window, and seeing Malfoy just…_apparate_ back into the house. I suppose it was the bond?"

Luckily, a Healer interrupted at this point to give us all the answer to that question and directions to Malfoy's ward after Hermione begged it off of her. It was an extremely strange walk, with the boys being unusually silent behind us. Hermione was looking decidedly tired. Her long corkscrew curls were all over the place, her cheeks tinged with the pink that speaks of exertion, while her lips were pressed into a thin line. Gin and I shared a worried look over her head - was she in pain? Why was she keeping silent? After what seemed an eternity, the Healer led us around a corner that brought us to a pleasant surprise - Draco Malfoy, looking a mite bit fierce, was waiting on the other side of the door as if he had been waiting for awhile. Blaise Zabini and Crabbe were sitting on chairs surrounding a bed on the opposite end of the room while Nott and Goyle were standing next to each other in front of the closed window.

"I'll just take her from here, ladies."

Without any hesitation, he swept her into his arms and cuddled her quite close. I had to bite back a small smile - even with all the fuss the two of them hadmade in the beginning, they were easily a lovely-looking couple only four weeks into the arranged marriage bit. Heavens, the way they were smiling at each other now would fool anyone into thinking they'd been friends - ahem, at the very least, anyway - for a while. After everyone had trailed inside, I closed the door and took the last vacant seat and surveyed Malfoy's mates.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd laid eyes on any of them but the War had left all of them visibly intact. I'd stayed out of the way of most Slytherins while I at Hogwarts, though Marcus Flint had once locked me in that disappearing closet for no good reason. It had actually been quite interesting for the twenty-hours that I'd been in there, as I'd had a copy of the latest _Quibbler_ on me and could read interrupted thanks to the single dangling lightbulb. The hunger had eventually driven me to sleep - good thing Anthony Goldstein and Hannah Abbot had found me.

But, I digress. My surveyal was perfunctory at best - Crabbe and Goyle were as burly and silent as ever, while Theodore Nott was looking very dapper and well-to-do and made a nice picture if you wanted to look at a brooding Englishman. I cannot help that my eyes lingered on Blaise Zabini quite a bit - after all, he was unbelievably attractive, even still. I suppose having full lips and dark eyes and angular cheekbones will do that do a boy. He caught my eye as I stared, then smiled as if he knew _exactly_ why I'd been staring.

If it had been Dean, I'm sure I would have blushed. Since it was the _other_ tall, dark, and handsome man in the room, I struggled to keep myself from laughing back at him. Zabini winked, then returned his attention to the couple who was _still_ whispering intimately to each other over by the bed. The rest of the room was now watching as avidly as I was, but only Zabini had the guts to interrupt them.

"Are you two going to ignore us or are you both going to explain exactly what happened?"

"Sorry!" Malfoy and Hermione chimed simultaneously.

"I believe that thanks are in order. So…thank you all. I don't quite think I would have stopped to take her to the hospital until I killed him." When his face twisted into something ugly, the witch on the bed was muttering and giving him a look that I couldn't read. _How very interesting_...he took a deep breath and continued. "And then I would have ended up in Azkaban and Granger would be all by her lonesome...then where would that leave us?"

Ginny muttered something that had everyone smiling a little and Draco Malfoy repeated his thanks.

"No problem," I said with a slow wave of her hands. I folded my hands over my jacket while Neville and Harry agreed with me, while Dean said something about helping Draco out in the future (accompanied, of course, by more cracking knuckles) and the blond urged Hermione to finally tell us what had really happened that afternoon.

"The spell hit me about here," (an arm rose up to indicate where 'here' was, about mid-chest height) "and I flew back into the room and hit the floor. He was protected, you know."

"Protected?" Harry prompted. She gave him a meaningful glance, one that told him it was the same shield spell that had been adjusted during the War and first appeared on the Light side. We hadn't thought that anyone else would know.

"You're kidding," said Dean with a disturbed look. _He_'d had experiences with that spell when the Dark Side tweaked it to spit the spells back at you at high speeds. He'd been hit with his own Binding spell in the midst of battle. If it hadn't been for Seamus' keeping an eye out for fallen Order members, an enemy would have found Dean before we did.

"The same kind?" asked Neville seriously.

"In essence, it was the same thing."

"I'm beginning to feel as if we're not here anymore," said Blaise with a good-natured frown.

"But you know what I'm talking about." She turned to Blaise. "The new shield spells that were created during the war. The ones that you put in place around yourself or someone else, which move with you. His wasn't like the Light Side's but it wasn't exactly like the Dark Side's either. His absorbed the spells with an audible sound."

"Ah, I do wonder how he obtained knowledge of that spell. But he changed it himself?" Nott looked contemplative.

"I have no idea," she replied. The hand that wasn't clasped in Malfoy's rubbed my sore neck absently. "I tried wandless magic but…nothing happened. If you don't count, of course, me angering him most thoroughly and landing myself in a lot of pain. It's not really worth going into details, really. And then of course Malfoy came, and so did you lot. I'm just glad that I got away without any major wounds."

"Are you going to press charges?" asked Zabini

"Keep in mind that regardless of your answer, **I** will press charges, whether you want to or not."

"Then I guess it doesn't matter whether I choose to or not," I muttered with a sour face directed at Malfoy. "It seems my opinion on the subject is not needed."

It was remarkable how quickly the atmosphere could go from relaxed to tense. Malfoy surely had a knack for setting off the smartest witch of our age. Ginny shook her head impatiently and dismissed Malfoy with a wave.

"Forget Malfoy for a moment - do you want to press charges?"

"I would rather see him in a place where people can help him. Azkaban wouldn't help his insanity, you know. But maybe if he stayed here at St. Mungos, he would…he might get a little better under expert Healer care. I don't know…"

I rather thought Hermione had a point - as incredibly frightening as it must have been to be helpless in your own home, he couldn't possibly help his madness. He would benefit much more from Healing hands than a Dementor's Kiss. When Hermione glanced at me, I gave her a slight smile and nodded my support. I was the only one - every male, plus Gin, snorted in disgust. Ron leaned forward in his seat to roll his eyes at the same time as Malfoy.

"You're a softie, 'Mione."

"Well if it were you, wouldn't you want to be treated well?" she implored.

"Well if it was me, I wouldn't stalk people," Ron shot back with folded arms and a smug look on his freckled face. "I would stay at home and play Quidditch all day, all right?"

Now, I was the one rolling my eyes as everyone laughed.

_Not amused, eh? _I startled as Dean's voice intruded. _Don't tell me you agree with her?_

I slid my gaze to him and smiled. _**I'll keep my opinions to myself.**_

He shook his head, and I could swear that he was whispering 'Christ, girls' to himself before Blaise began speaking again.

"Regardless, it costs money to keep people under hospitalized care and he doesn't seem to have any family, so there would be no one to cover it."

"True." Hermione bit her lip. "But I really would rather see him somewhere other than Azkaban."

"I hope you don't have any plans of paying for that bastard," said Malfoy in a grim voice. "Because I certainly wouldn't allow that."

There was a short silence that spoke volumes, and the look on Hermione's face would have cowed a herd of stampeding hippogriffs. Another tactical error, made yet again by one Master Malfoy.

"Allow?"

"Forbid," he said coolly. She raked him over coals with her eyes alone before she repeated the word. I couldn't help but wince a little bit.

"Good one. Either you're joking, which I am sure you are, or you must be under the impression that you are in an alternate reality and speaking to some other girl."

"No," he mocked, "I'm pretty sure that you're Hermione Granger and I'm definitely forbidding you from paying money to hospitalize someone that I would kill without hesitation."

"Maybe we should leave the room before the row _really_ starts," whispered Ron from my left. The lot of us couldn't have agreed with him more and a few of us got to our feet and started edging for the door before anything more happened. Sadly, Hermione was not agreeable to the plan.

"Oh no, what row? There isn't one. I'm letting Malfoy have his little joke!"

No more hand-holding. Now they were glaring at each other like little tykes, arms-crossed, battle-lines drawn. Beyond Malfoy, I could see that his mates were thoroughly amused by the situation. Crabbe was chortling along with Goyle, while Theodore looked for all the world as if he were at a Muggle theater to enjoy a flick. Zabini was grinning but his eyes were a little watchful -

"Joke, is it? If I have to lock you up in the Manor and take a hold of your bank account to stop you from-"

At this Zabini went from grinning to outright chuckling, as if Malfoy would actually make good on his threats. Ron still looked a bit panicked and was actually tiptoeing closer to the door with his little sister and Harry in tow. Dean and Neville looked torn between staying to watch the rest of the argument and making a clean getaway but two Healers interrupted with the declaration that everyone was free to leave since papers had been cleared and all was in order.

"If that will be all…" Malfoy's voice was cool and haughty. He obviously wanted them to depart as soon as possible, and in accordance with his wishes, the Healers soon disapparated.

"Are you going to need help getting home?" asked Neville, getting to his feet.

"I'll be fine getting back to my apartment house so-"

"Actually," interrupted Malfoy, "actually, I have to talk to you about that."

"And what exactly do you have to say about that?"

"Wait," interrupted Zabini. He pushed himself off of the window into a standing position. He brushed off his black suit briefly, then walked past the bed and made his way over to us with a wide smile. "I rather think that this will be a good time to leave, unless you want to see Miss Granger leave more bloodshed in her wake than even Drake is capable of."

I eyed Zabini who was still grinning, then 'Mione who couldn't have looked any less pleased had she put her considerable brainpower to it, then Draco looked panicked and angry while Gin asked what was going on. _Ah. _I had no doubt that Malfoy had certainly done something that would raise 'Mione's ire, and I caught the entire exchange between him and Zabini over her head. I stood to my feet, and when Dean looked up at me questioningly, I motioned him to his feet as well. Hermione was already trying to regain the blond wizard's attention, and I could see that he was squaring his shoulders and stiffening his spine to speak to her about what he'd done.

"You are Blaise Zabini, correct?" I asked. "I rather think that he is telling the truth so don''t ask questions. Let's all go, shall we?

There was a clamor as I rushed everyone up.

_What do you know?_

**_Malfoy has done something that Hermione will not like._** I pulled at Ron, who was protesting the entire time, then moved on to Gin who was dong as much quarreling as her brother. _**Help me with them?**_

Thankfully, he led them out while Nott and I brought up the flanks.

"Trust me," said the dapper wizard, "I only know Miss Granger by reputation yet _I_ have no wish to be anywhere near here when he tells her what he has to say."

"I have no doubt you are right," I murmured back.

And how right he was. The burst of magic that reached us a floor down nearly five minutes later told us we'd saved our skins, and not a moment too soon.

* * *

"The coast is all clear," said Ginny as she quickly closed her bedroom door and bounced from the door to the bed.

Hermione, stubborn girl that was, had decided to take matters into her own hands and up and apparate to the Burrow early this morning. It had taken an hour for us to distract the boys long enough for Gin to sneak her in past the wards, then up the stairs of the Burrow. Thank God the stairs didn't creak anymore, and that the ghoul who haunted the attic was presently nosing around downstairs, or her presence would have been discovered immediately. Now we were in the room, safe and sound. I was sitting at Gin's desk, scribbling away the beginnings of an article for the Quibbler and messing with my earrings, while the redhead dragged an exceptionally pleased Hermione unto the bed.

"When she gets into the mood," I heard Gin mutter, "she's unstoppable."

Of course, they could only be referring to me. I didn't bother looking up immediately.

"I heard that. And that as well."

I glanced at the smiling pair of them, then down at my article, only to notice that my fingers were stained with dark blue ink. Hermione cleaned me right up.

"Thanks."

I smiled, crossed the room to the bed, then joined them under the covers.

"So what happened?" Ginny pulled a pillow into her lap and rested her elbows there. The signature blaze of tumbling red curls scattered around her like a halo, and I shook my head at how vibrant she was at this point in the day. "After mystic woman here and Zabini pulled us out? Because that blast of magical energy could be felt three floors down."

"I got mad. He got mad. We got mad."

"Well, we could tell that from a long ways away," Ginny said wryly.

"That's really what happened, though. His magic comes out in the form of whirlwinds, and mine in golden sparks…it was quite embarrassing to lose myself like that in public. I like to think that I'm in control at all times." She snapped her head so suddenly in my direction that I stared. She narrowed her eyes and pinned me with an eagle eye that would have done Professor McGonall proud. "I've been meaning to ask you, how on earth did you guess that something like that was going to take place?"

"I don't rightly know," I teased. "Who knows? Maybe I'm a direct descendent of Cassandra, the greatest seeing witch ever born."

"Or it could be that Draco's dubious behavior, which included shaking and glaring at Blaise, gave it away." For a minute, I felt nothing but abject pity for the poor Draco Malfoy. Then she said- "Where _is_ my bloody scrunchy?"

_Draco? _I might have opened my mouth to say something but nothing emerged. They'd progressed enough in the last twenty-four hours to get to first name basis? Well, this was news. I looked over at Gin who could have doubled as my twin at the moment, then we both turned back to the panicking Hermione.

"What? What is it? Is there something on my face?"

" 'Draco'? " asked Gin, pointedly.

Her mouth dropped open too and she looked as if she could have happily fainted. Her eyes just got larger and larger, and her skin went paler and paler.

"When did this happen?" I asked. I couldn't help myself - I burst into immediate laughter.

"Uh…I…It's not what you think…damn." Imagine if you will, Hermione Granger as red as a cherry. It is entirely possible that I lost control of myself and squealed before we began pelting her with questions and comments. It was high time that the two of them acted like adults and called each other by their first names. I continued laughing even as she yelled and begged me stop.

"Luna! Shut up! Let me explain! I had to get him to the door without making him suspicious. I had to throw him off!"

We sat with our arms folded (alright, at least Ginny did while I tried not to snicker).

"Because of course the great Hermione Granger couldn't think of _any_ other way to throw Draco Malfoy off," Ginny said.

"Really! It unbalanced him…I got to the door…it was a foolproof plan," she said defensively.

"It was," I agreed with a deceptive nod of my head. I had no doubt that she believed what she was saying. "But it still doesn't explain why you're calling him Draco _now_."

"No, no." Ginny narrowed her eyes. "We should analyze your behavior, Hermione. You can't deny that you're getting closer to him and Luna and I want to know why you're running from it."

"Running from what?"

Definite shifty behavior - Hermione was now avoiding eye contact.

"Him. You. You two as a couple."

"It's obvious that he cares about you." I propped myself more comfortably against the headboard. "He's certainly as protective as any one of the boys. He's just as smart as you are so I'm sure there'll be no lack of intellectual stimulation."

"And speaking of stimulation," interrupted Ginny with a wicked smile on her freckled face, "he's exceptionally good-looking. I can't believe he's kept his hands off of-"

"Ginny!" Ron couldn't have worse timing. There was a moment in which we were all frozen with surprise before Ginny bounded off the bed to guard the door. 'Mione scrambled off the bed and shimmied down to the floor as quickly as a snake. Ron's voice pierced the panic again. "Ginny? Do you know what a toenail clipper is?"

And then I was throwing a blanket over Hermione and assuming a calm demeanor, Ron was through the door, and badgering us with the question again. He looked around, not suspicious in the least - bless him - and Gin threw something to keep him from coming any further into the room.

"Damn it, Ginny! What the hell?" he yelled angrily. "Fine! Do _you_ know what it is, Luna?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," I said with a smile, "Muggle instrument that clips toenails when they get too long."

He thanked me, stopped long enough to glare at his little sister who glared right back, then left the room with a bang. Once he was gone, the other two grumbled and grumbled and grumbled until they finally got around to sitting back on the bed.

"And did you tell him what it was?" asked Hermione.

"No. Luna did."

I smiled and shook her head. "Despite that very interesting respite from the important conversation we were having, we shall go back to talking about you and Draco."

"That'll cheer me right up," Ginny brightened visibly with a smile. "Tell Luna about the kiss."

"What kiss?"

First I'd heard of this - I glanced between the two of them.

"Which kiss?" Hermione asked.

"See?" Ginny squealed and looked self-righteous. "There's definitely more than one to talk about!"

Hermione looked positively flummoxed - I intervened before blood could be spilled.

"Ginny, shut up for a bit and let her tell me."

"It's hard to describe the kisses, or rather one of them. There've only been two, " she paused to count them off on her finger. "Both on my front porch, actually…Have you kissed Dean yet?"

The question knocked me right off of my broom...surely, I hadn't seen that coming at all. It took me a moment to blink and then...I lied. I haven't the faintest idea why it was important to me to keep the truth from them - perhaps I didn't want pity or I couldn't make myself comfortable enough to talk - but...I lied with a small smile on my face, my arms crossed over my chest, and nary an outward sign to show inner turmoil.

"No, we aren't...like that." I even found a way to shrug and laugh. "Let's talk about your problem first and then maybe we can talk about mine."

Hermione peered at me owlishly before speaking.

"Alright then…the first kiss was the more lustful of the two. My tongue seems to be tied in knots at the moment, but I'll try my best to spit out adjectives to adequately describe it." She closed her eyes and I could feel myself pushing away my lie and listening well. "Ridiculously arousing…heat…uncontrollable…red…a haze…" My eyes eased open to see both Ginny and Luna smirking. "It was actually a lot like being drunk."

"Interesting descriptions," Ginny said with a smug look, shaking her hair from side to side. "Especially since we know you've never been drunk. And the second one?"

"That one was entirely different! The bond between us was entirely undone and I could feel what he was feeling and he could feel what I was feeling and it was like…" Suddenly she shrugged. "I am sounding stupid and foolish and extremely cliché but it was like drowning. The bond allowed us to just…it wasn't just me anymore. It was him and I."

"That about sums it up," Ginny said with a sage nod while playing with the threads on the edges of the red pillow in her lap. "It gets even deeper, even more intense the longer you've known and loved him."

I felt myself paling a little bit. _Sums it up, indeed. _That had been my experience as well and I hoped to high heaven that there would be no more of that in the future. I couldn't bare to have any more of myself laid bare, not when I already felt naked in front of him. Clearly, he was still in love with Lavender. I mean, he carried her picture in his wallet and visited her grave and had known her far longer than he knew me and had probably even been closer to her than he had me. Ginny had once told me that she'd thought he was in love with her, at the beginning of Fifth Year, when we'd been laying out by the Lake. I believed her then and I knew it to be true now. But how would I hide it? Could I hide it long enough to fool him? How long was long enough? How much longer could I hold out?

_And how am I supposed to bear all this?_

My two best girl friends in the entire world were staring at me like I needed to give them an answer.

"Believe me, Dean is funny and sweet and friendly. We're really good friends – and I kind of think that that's the problem." Hermione leaned closer to me and made a forwards motion. "It's just…I don't know…He..."

"Spit it out already!"

I took a deep breath.

"I think that Dean is in love with Lavender."

The two of them looked at each other, with twin expressions conveying confusion. Immediately, I realized that I'd blundered...of course, they wouldn't understand.

"But Lavender died…in the War," murmured Gin, "and Seamus died trying to save her and her family. You _know_ that."

"Of course I know that." I was in love - not a dunce. "I do know that. But it doesn't change what I think he feels."

"How do you know?" Hermione asked quietly.

A billion thoughts flowed through my mind. A billion moments, a billion memories stolen from Dean's subconscious. They wouldn't understand, but maybe-

"He has this picture by his bed of Lavender and Seamus."

"Luna!" Ginny said angrily. "Listen to yourself! His best friend is in the picture too, you know."

I sat up straighter but found myself staring at the blanket. A few days ago while I'd been hanging out at the bachelor pad (the new nickname for the boys' apartment), I'd stumbled upon a new Lavender-related discovery. I'd been looking for Dean since he'd supposedly 'gone off to use the loo' fifteen minutes prior, and I was wondering if a karpie had gotten him or if he'd drowned or something equally as likely, and cracked open his bedroom door without thinking. He'd been on the bed, fiddling with something his hands, letting it play out over and over. Lavender's voice...I'd closed the door quietly, pasted a smile on my face, and resolutely headed back to the kitchen to talk with Neville.

"He plays it all the time," I said quietly. "And she's keeps saying 'I love it! Dean, you know me so well' in this voice…"

There was a heavy silence. I didn't look up.

"I still think it's in your head, Luna."

If I were the kind of girl who snorted I would have. As it were, I could only raise my head and respond honestly.

"And I would say the same thing if it weren't for the tail ends of thoughts I keep catching in his head. '…miss her scent…color'…things like that. I just can't help feeling that I'm competing with something that I cannot top."

The two of them shared another worried look before the both took a hand each.

"Wow," Gin murmured while shaking her head. "I would have never though that this could be true…it can't be. There's no way that Dean is in love with Lavender. But if you feel like you need to validate it, then go right-"

I would have loved to hear the redhead's advice but fate came for Hermione. The bedroom door swung open to show that the Burrow had a heretofore unprecedented visitor. Draco Malfoy, Prince of Slytherin, had come back to collect his betrothed with a bang.

* * *

"What are the odds that she rips him a new one again?" Dean whispered into my ear later that night. "They've been glaring at each other all night."

"I wouldn't call that glaring," I whispered back. "They are most definitely _gazing_. There's a significant difference."

The rest of us rather wished Malfoy and Hermione would just get on with it. It was clear that he cared about her and clear that she cared about him, and although his decision was completely uncalled for, I couldn't find fault in the fact that he had only wished to protect her. Enchanted Eats was the perfect place for us to leave them alone so they could finally make up. Unfortunately, no one else had wanted to take my advice. Malfoy had just headed off to the loo, and we watched in silence as 'Mione got up a moment later.

"The way that bloke back there is gazing at you?" Dean made a backwards motion with his head and I turned slowly to see who he was-

Interesting. The attractive dark-haired man really _was _gazing at me. When I stared back, he smiled and inclined his head.

"Well, I wouldn't call that gazing," I conceded lightly. Dean did not look at all amused and I found myself titillated. Was he actually jealous? "He might have been drooling a little bit."

"Well, bless your heart. Here I was thinking you weren't capable of making jokes tonight."

_Definitely jealous. _Christmas had come early - this was an unforeseen treat. I had never seen him jealous but I supposed that it had been inevitable. The crowd had been staring and whispering ever since we'd made it into the restaurant. Thank heavens Fred had thought to get the lone v.i.p. table on the other end of the dance floor, or we would have no end of fans and admirers for many of us here. The twins had made Weasley a household name, Malfoy had been recently named as one of England's most eligible bachelors in _Teen Witch,_ Hermione's curly hair was probably recognizable on sight, and Padma was the primary fashion editor for _Mode _and a pretty well-known socialite. Anyone with them was prime people-watching target.

Dean glared over my head, presumably at the man, then wrapped an arm around me. _Hmm, _I thought, _this jealousy bit is working very well for me._

_"_He might be a reader of _The Quibbler_, you know."

"Whatever he is, he had better sod off." I arched an eyebrow. Unapologetic jealousy was even better. He misinterpreted the look. "Yes, sorry, I'll mind my language."

I said nothing, but sipped my drink silently. He hadn't even bothered to tamper his anger down mentally - I could feel him fuming through the bond. After a depressing and largely unfruitful talk with Gin and 'Mione, this was a very welcome respite.

"And now you're quiet," he sighed. "Did I upset you?"

_Quite the contrary. _I shook my head and hid another smile.

"Luna." I craned my neck to see Padma standing and motioning me over. Her many bangles glinted and shimmered in the light, probably bringing many an eye to the table. "I absolutely need to be on the dance floor. Come with me?"

"Of course," I called back as I patted Dean's arm ("If he comes near you, I'm snatching you away," he muttered), stood, and walked over. "Though I won't be able to keep up with you."

"Though I adore your dress, it looks pretty insubstantial." She stroked the short hem, fingered the frills, and eyed the length with an expert eye. I dare say her inner fashion magazine editor was galloping to the forefront. "Though most say that blondes should stay away from white, the tan boots make it work. Where did you get it?"

"Hermione bought it in Muggle London." I smiled at the memory - the brunette had forced me into the dress despite my loudest pleas and I had ended up loving it, despite the fact that the skirt flared out so much that I believed a sigh would pick it up and expose me.

"Are you guys thinking of leaving me behind?" Here came the redhead in her plunging halter (which Ron would simply not quiet down about, having drawn the twins into the argument now) waggling her eyebrows. "Because I was also looking for some dance partners.

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Padma linked arms with us both, then charged out to the dance floor. We reached

Something odd was happening. Men were freezing around us, one by one.

"What in heavens-" Padma breathed. Utter silence reigned, despite the blaring of the music. A dough-faced blonde witch who had been dancing on what looked to be a man much younger than her hit him. A brunette a little ways on our left was looking very worriedly at her date, who was mid-drink. The hand that held the flute of champagne was perfectly still, his breathing even, but his brown eyes glazed over.

Almost as one, every boy around us turned their head in one direction.

"Oh Merlin," Ginny moaned, "it's a pheromone mix-up."

_These things actually happen?_ I thought dazedly before Gin rounded us all into action. She pushed Padma away from the dance floor with the instruction that she amplify her voice to let all the women in the club know the situation, stun our boys (too many powerful wizards), and get the rest of the girls. Me she grabbed and yanked into the middle of the seething mass of mindless men, who had begun a collective disturbing growling sound. We shoved and shoved and pushed our way through the unmoving crowd and, unexpectedly, burst into the clearing which must have been at the center of the floor. Hermione, wand up, standing in front of Katie, while a _very_ unattractive young man stalked towards her.

The way he moved put me in a mind to stun him immediately. So-

"Ginny, pull out your wand!" I didn't look back to make sure they had, but stepped in front of Hermione and

_Dean?_ I shouted. The bond buzzed. _Dean? If you can hear me snap out of it! Dean!_

**_...L-...Luna? _**He sounded drowzy, as if on the edge of taking a nap. **_Luna? _**

_Get out of here!_

**_Luna? Luna! _**

Before I could reply, Ginny yelled something and the rest of the women, bar Cho, came bursting through the crowd.

"What the hell is going on?" yelled Alicia. I motioned her behind me and they spread out while I kept an eye on the men. Any moment now they were going to lose control and try to get to her.

"Where's Cho?" someone asked.

The crowd surged forward and the chatter became louder.

"Don't drop your guard!" I yelled. "It's a pheromone mix-up!"

Hermione yelled something but Dean, stronger this time, was battering at my mental barrier. I pulled back from him altogether, and reinforced the wall. More yells from somewhere behind me, a few screams in the crowd of men, and the missing Cho Chang emerged to my right like some sort of warrior princess dispensing pain and befuddlement left and right. Her hands were a blur as she got physical - heavens, had she just _incapacitated _that man with an undercut? - and the men pulled back slightly if only to get away from her. Cho took a moment to straighten her clothes out and take off her dark sunglasses before her fist lit out to hit someone else. Coolly, she came over to us.

"Pheromone mix-up?" There was a momentary silence as Cho leapt up a few notches in everyone's esteem. "Who's causing it?"

"Hermione," shouted Angelina. "Hermione! No one's going to be able to get him. Why don't you make him apparate here with your fear?"

The men spread out as one. The noise decibel went up considerably. 'Mione didn't have an answer, or if she did, I couldn't hear her.

"Screw this!" cursed Alicia loudly as the crowd closed in. There was no choice but to rely on magic. "Take as many of them down as you girls can!"

Seven telltale red stunning beams hit seven unfortunate men one after the other. Once they were stunned, those same beams were retracted only to hit seven more men. And then seven more went down. Yet, there were always more men to replace them and we all got pressed together. Before I knew it, the circle had broken and I was caught up in a whirlwind of movement. I shot off as many spells as possible, keeping my cool and trying to avoid hurting any of the girls. I tried to find my way back to Hermione but couldn't afford looking back. Distractions might cause me a leg in this situation.

"Get out of my way," snarled one man who had appeared at my elbow out of thin air. I suspected that he'd like nothing better than to snatch me up by the hair and toss me out of his way but a hurried levitation charm sent him flying elsewhere.

"Hermione! Hermione!" Nothing - just a loud din. And now a bearded man had managed to get a hold on my wand wrist. "Herm-!"

And it was over - just like that. He blinked, then his knees seemed to give way a tad bit, almost dragging me down to the floor with him. When he realized he was still holding on to me tightly, he let go.

"Bloody 'ell, my head. I'm so sorry but what 'appened?"

"You're fine," I said kindly. "Pheremone mix-up. Go sit down and have some water somewhere."

Wide eyes. A loud groan. Then he heaved himself off the floor, stumbled away with a garbled 'thanks' and more than a few men trailed after him. I rubbed my wrist a bit more (heavens but that had been frightening) and finally called for Dean.

_Dean?_

**_Where are you? _**He sounded as out of it as that other man had felt. I started to walk my way through the crowd. _**I'm in the ante-room by the bar.**_

_Give me a moment. _I spun around, looking for any sign of the girls. _I'll be there soon._

**_Are you alright? Did anyone hurt you?_**

_Peachy, _I sent him calmly. _I promise I'll be there soon._

What a day...what a night. Dean was going to be worried before long but I needed to take a moment to make sure that the rest of the girls were fine. _On second thought..._pushing my way back inwards probably wouldn't too much good. More people straggling away from the dance floor, more people in the way - I couldn't see those brown curls anywhere. She was smart enough to make it out, and if it was over, Draco Malfoy had arrived to put an end to things.

I pushed my bangles up and rubbed my sore wrist carefully. What a weekend. I wouldn't be surprised if a troll were to break into the restaurant at this moment with a few banshees in tow. How much more could come our way?


	9. Unsettled

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: I just needed to cross that last chapter so that you guys would have a sense of time. I listened to lots of break-up songs to write this chapter -_ Between the Lines_ by Sara Bareilles, her and Ingrid M's _Winter Song_, Le Chevalier OP _Over Night _by Aya, and _Hello Hello _by Paramore. Fanfic keeps deleting my POV markers so I'm using the grey lines instead. Really short chapter to emphasize Luna and Dean's new thoughts on the relationship. Enjoy! =P**

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Chapter 9 – Unsettled

_I believe one is **supposed** to feel off-kilter, what with the world moving beneath one's feet. - 'Mione's observation about Durmstrang's ship, Fourth Year_

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* * *

_

_I shouldn't be doing this. _I shouldn't. Like, heavens knew that I really shouldn't. This was probably the worst idea I'd had to date. But I couldn't help myself - I had to sacrifice my morals to get to the bottom of this thing. _Oh, I really shouldn't be doing this and I shouldn't have come here._

I looked around Dean's bedroom, wondering where on earth to start looking for that old recording. He had just rushed out of the apartment with Ron to get something from the twins - I hadn't properly heard what he'd said before they disappeared out the front door - and this was the perfect time to let myself loose in his suite. His room was clean (much neater than mine, anyway) and it wasn't as if I would have to go on a treasure hunt to find it. Although he'd been in my room many many times since the end of the War, I had rarely been in his. He had five sets of rooms to himself - all the boys did. Every suite included a comfortable mid-sized study, a small guest room, a game-room full of Muggle games since magic was banned in this house, and a room that they put excess belongings in. Sure, I could find my way around but I found myself distracted by the new West Ham and the thin gold chain that was laid haphazardly across the desk. There were a few innocuous things like rubber chickens and candy and a very fake-looking textbook sitting on the chair in the far side (courtesy of Wheezes, I'm sure) that I stayed away from but other than that I would have to start with the desk.

Again, another twinge of guilt. Again, I beat it down.

I hadn't realized that I wanted to find the recording until after the Quidditch try-out matches. I'd been caught up in all the excitement of watching the boys succeed - but it had been plaguing me ever since I'd told Gin and Mione. I had yet to catch Dean with it again...but the fact was that it was _there_. It existed. It was somewhere in his room, cradled in a safe place, and I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around the idea that it should be left alone and that it wasn't my business. I had seen it in Dean's careful hands, seen his fingers gently stroking down the sides of it, seen his eyes close as he listened to Lavender's voice saying 'I love it!' over and over again, before I had smashed my heart back into my chest and tiptoed back the hallway all those weeks ago to forget what I'd seen. It was really a shame that my imagination had suddenly taken a turn for activity because I couldn't forget. I couldn't bear to let it alone either. It plagued me. That photo recording was somewhere in this room and, morbid girl that I am, I wanted to find it and look on it myself and...

_And what? _I questioned myself. _What am I trying to accomplish here? _

To borrow colorful language, I had no bloody idea. When I found it, I would answer that question.

"Desk, desk, desk," I mumbled under my breath. "Dear heavens, please let me find it on first try."

I muttered the prayer over and over as I pulled the first drawer open, rummaged around a bit, then pulled open the second to do the same. Dean would be back in less than twenty minutes, for sure, so I went back and forth between the two - careful to set things back in their exact places when I was done. Papers, quills, ink pots, Muggle pens, stationary...wasn't all of this supposed to be in his study? I supposed he wanted enough parchment around to be able to study for his upcoming Exams anywhere in the were a few dog-eared children's books that I supposed were for Sammie and Sophie. The fourth drawer proved quite different, full of thin glossy quick-study textbooks that he'd clearly needed for Healing, what with the complicated looking potion names in most of the contents. No trick cabinet in any of them - nothing to see in his main desk.

I straightened and looked around the room. The bureau was the next obvious choice to look. The first drawer left me pink in the face - boxers and briefs everywhere, and the most _interesting_ patterns. Most were of the sport variety - Quidditch broomsticks and Snitches and Muggle soccer balls but a few had choice phrases on the seat of them. But a few of them were either for kicks or to entertain females. A sunny yellow one had a smiley face that was doing more suggestive winking than smiling, dark blue briefs declared 'England for the win!' in bold white capital letters outlined in red, and black silk boxers simply said 'Touch me'. Clearly those Muggle stores were more inventive than I gave credit for! I hurriedly folded everything neatly and pushed it back in then moved on to the next drawer - casual tees and shirts...third were jeans and slacks...fourth contained fancy trousers and the like and the fifth was more boxers and briefs. Nothing that looked even remotely like metal.

_Where would he put it? Where would I put it if it were me?_

Obviously, my desk was the easiest answer. It was most accessible and since I was always writing, it would be there. If I looked it at it as often as Dean did, then it would have to be somewhere in the bedroom so if it weren't the desk then...But if it weren't there then - I froze. If he had put it where I was now thinking of, I would be far more upset than I would have been had I found it hiding between his undies or tucked inside a shirt. I crossed the room and sat down slowly unto the bed, easing myself on to his soft grey sheets and staring worriedly. If he really did keep it there, I was royally effed. The closer to himself he kept it meant the more often he listened to it, and the closer to himself he kept it then the closer to his heart it was. My hands moved forward and reached around blindly...and now a different prayer -

"Please, heavens, please don't let it be here - don't let it be here - don't let it be-"

It was, right where I'd feared it would be. My fingers closed around the warm metal (warm? why on earth would it be if he hadn't just listened to it today?) and pulled it out from underneath one of his massive pillows. Of course, he'd kept it as close to his heart as possible. Now that I had it, it seemed that something so small should be so dark and threatening. My breathing was speeding up, my eyes were squinting, my palms were sweating. I stared down at it before I pressed the black triangle, which I was rather sure meant 'play' and not 'the fear inducing button of death', and waited for something to happen. I was rewarded with the crackle of feedback and the hum of noise in the background though no voices were distinct enough to be identified - it sounded like a party although I would be hard pressed to tell you which party this had been recorded in. I bent over and stared at the many little holes that spat up sound, before there was a shuffling sound then laughter then someone gasped.

"Oh, Dean, where on earth did you get that?" asked a voice that I knew far too well. It was Lavender, laughing that feminine tinkling sound, before there was the sound of clapping. It sounded as if Dean was laughing now too. "It looks very strange but pretty - oh, I love it, Dean! I really do love it. Is it for me?"

I lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Automatically, I rewound the tape and played it again.

"Oh, Dean, where on earth did you get that? It looks very strange but pretty - oh, I love it, Dean! I really do love it. Is it for me?"

It cut off suddenly and sharply and I blinked rapidly before leaning back against his pillows to stare at the ceiling. My fingers rewound the tape as if they had a mind of their own, and I listened to it again. And again and again and again, until my head was filled with Lavender's laughter and Dean's response was echoing through the halls of my brain and the cream of the ceiling made everything look blank. She wouldn't stop laughing he wouldn't stop loving and it was as clear as faerie light that he had loved her then and that he loved her still. I didn't need the play button anymore - the silence in the room amplified the sounds in my head.

_I love it,_ she had said, _is it for me? Is it for me?_

Here was the proof that I'd feared I would receive. My mind was in chaos. Did Dean listen to this tape every night? Had he listened to this tape before the end? Is that why it was under his pillow? Was he poring over the words, holding unto her memory as tightly as he held unto Seamus'? Did he stare at the ceiling just like this, and hold the recorder just like this too? Did he love her? I couldn't see how the two could even be separated - how on earth would he think of his best mate and not think of his best mate's pretty fiancee? How deeply had he loved Lavender and did he love her more now? Did he _love _her? Just how often did he listen to this tape? Were there other copies? Were there other tapes like this that held little pieces of a life that I wasn't apart of? Did he carry it with him sometimes, most of the time, all the time or did he leave it here protected so he could cherish it alone? There was no question that he cherished it. For Merlin's sake, it had still been warm when I'd touched it! What was I supposed to do at this point? Could I ever look him in the eye squarely again? Was I supposed to continue pretending? What in heaven's name was I supposed to _do_? How was I supposed to win? Could I? I couldn't win this battle because it had been lost long before I stepped on the scene. I couldn't fight shadows and I couldn't beat back memories. I was not even going to try. I sat up but was startled when water ran down my face. I-

Accidentally I hit the play button again, and the entire thing began again. Hearing it only made me shut my eyes tight and grip it again because I just wanted her to stop talking so that I could breath or think or something but-

"Luna?"

_Shite._

I snapped my head around so fast that my skull sat back on my spine. But of course Dean would be entering the house now - I could hear lots of shuffling and loud stamping down the hall in what sounded like the kitchen. I had completely forgotten the time-limit in my despair but, let me tell you, I have never moved so quickly in my life: I fumbled for the stop button, shoved it haphazardly under the pillow then ran for the bathroom. Sadly, adrenaline couldn't even stop the flow of tears so I wept as I ran and made it across the room without breaking my neck then into the bathroom where I locked the door. I smashed down and reinforced the mental barrier - made it into a damned fortress that couldn't be breached - and now I was sliding down to the tile floor with my heart beating out of control in my chest, and cursing my ill-conceived adventure. Maybe if I was quiet enough, he would think I'd left already and I'd have time to put myself together and-

_There is no putting myself together._

"Luna? Where are you?"

The shuffling was closer now, and then there was the tiny tell-tale squeal that Dean's bedroom door made when you opened it, and I could just tell that he was poking his head in the room. I held my breath and wished him away. He tried a mental probe then, but I was safe inside my fortress. If there was any time that I thanked high heavens and all the Powers that Be for his half-assed way of looking through a room, it was then. I pressed an ear to the door to better hear him.

"Luna? Did she leave without telling me?"

An indistinct voice said something outside, to which Dean responded in the negative. The voice murmured again and he made a humming noise that sounded louder than anything had before (my heart jumped - had he entered the _room_?) before-

"Then she left. I'm sure she'll call in a bit to let me know, then."

The door squeaked. I held myself still for a moment and strained to hear a thing. After a few moments of blessed silence, I knew for sure that he'd left. I let out a wet sigh, still crying, and wrapped my arms around my knees. I would get out of here in a minute as soon as I was sure he was farther away. Floo powder, his fireplace, out and off to my place- I had to tell Daddy to take the fireplace off the Floo Network for a few days, fob him off with some excuse that would get everyone disinvited from the Lovegood Place for a few days, so maybe when I emerged I wouldn't be rambling inside of my own head in an attempt to justify a calm facade that hid a breaking heart. I couldn't do this without time.

_Or maybe you just can't do this, old girl._

Perhaps it was best not to think. That was much easier said than done. It was either that or concentrate on just how quickly the tears were dripping down my face, which was neither productive or considerably more fun. I needed to get out of here. Perhaps I would be able to get through this in one week but while I was thinking, the voices came back.

_Is it for me? Is it for me?_

I pressed my face into the cloth of my skirt. I had known it from the very beginning but I had done it anyway...I shouldn't have come here.

* * *

"Have you talked to Luna today?" I asked Neville, who was sitting on the sofa with head tilted back and eyes closed. It was already twenty after noon, and I had a few minutes to spare before I went off to meet Hermione to study, and I just had to ask. "Or yesterday perhaps? Anything at all?"

Call me paranoid but I had a feeling that something was wrong with Luna. I hadn't seen her over the last three days, after she'd suddenly left the apartment while I'd run to Wheezes to get a present for Naira on Tuesday. I'd returned to an empty apartment with a tingling sensation in my head - every time I reached out to send something through mental link, I'd been soundly rebuffed. It was almost as if Luna was sleeping and I just couldn't penetrate her consciousness. Or, at least, that's what I'd be inclined to think normally. But you know what the hell was wrong with that theory? It didn't matter what time of day I tried to reach her, I was unsuccesful. Morning, noon, night - there was just a blankness that I couldn't get over or under or around or _anything_. The only conclusion I could come to was that she was purposely blocking me out of her head.

The thought was unbearable.

I missed her and I was angry at the lack of communication but I was not motivated to do anything about it. What if I _had_ accidentally done something to offend her or hurt her the last time she had been here? The morning after her disappearance I'd sent her a short note asking after her, but I got nothing in return. The next morning, Ginny had stopped by with Fleur to give me word by mouth - that Luna was fine but she'd had so much to do at the _Quibbler_ that she'd run off to help her father. I'd thought it was strange, and penned another note but got no reply again. I mean, it certainly made sense she was behind on the article about a renewed interested in the Crumpled-Horn-Snorckack that Christopher was having her edit but she'd said absolutely nothing that afternoon to indicate that she was in a rush. In fact, when I cracked the door open, the room seemed to feel as if she had only just left. No call, no mental whisper, no note, no anything. Could you blame a bloke for getting worried?

"I haven't seen her in over a week, mate," Nev said, cracking an eye open to look at me.

"That's not what I asked you."

"Let me rephrase that - I haven't talked to _anyone_ in over a week, what with the mess at work."

Something top-secret in the Department of Mysteries was going on, but as an Unspeakable, Nev wasn't allowed to give us so much as a hint. True, though...he had been in and out at odd hours and this was the first time I'd seen him sitting in a long while.

"Fair enough." I drew the straps of my bag over my head and headed to the door. "You rest up, mate. I'm off to the library."

"Again?"

"Yeah but I'll be back before dinner."

My mind was already a billion miles away before I crossed the threshold and locked the front door behind me. I didn't want to actually go over to her place because the fact remained that I had no idea what sort of welcome I'd find there. What if she was actually angry at me? I had _never_ seen Luna miffed at anyone before - at times during the War, I'd worried that she just didn't have the capacity to take offense - and if I were to be the first that this terrible improbability fell upon, I had no way to remedy it. I wouldn't even know what an angry Luna _looked_ like, much less what to do to calm her down. Had I spoken to sternly? Had I been short with her? Maybe I should have just let Ron go out to get the present for Naira since he knew more about the products than I ever could, or maybe I should have just invited her along. Could it be that the lack of an invite was why I was walking down the street worried out of my mind? I mean, do girls usually expect to come along? It was supposed to be a short excursion anyway! How was I supposed to know that she'd wanted to come along?

_Wait, is that even the problem?_

I shook my head as I got on the trolley that would take me to the library that I was meeting Hermione in. Luna Lovegood was one of the most logical and pragmatic women I knew. There was no way that something this minor could have caused a three-day silence nor created a rift in our relationship. Could it? I mean, being the straightforward intelligent witch I knew, wouldn't she have just come forward and said something if anything I did bothered her? Did I...like me, myself, and I...bother her? Was my mere existence the issue? Maybe she'd simply gotten tired of my company-

That thought was equally unbearable and I shoved it the hell away.

"The question is what I plan to do to get back in her good graces." The mutter was apparently a lot more audible than I thought since a plump girl in a hideous purple sweatshirt stared at me oddly before hurrying by. I was going to go _nuts_ if I didn't see Luna soon. That and scare random girls away. I pushed the double doors into the library then made my way up the steps. How was I supposed to get on her good side? What had landed me on her bad side? Would Hermione know? Of course, she'd know since girls always talk about that kind of stuff to each other.

"When did you last speak to Luna?"

"Well, hello to you too, Dean." She looked up from the massive text she was poring over, flipped her crazy hair over her shoulders, and pinned me with a gaze that said she was not going to overlook my rudeness.

"I'm sorry, 'Mione," I said sheepishly. "Good afternoon, how are you?"

"Better now that you've greeted me," she said with mock sweetness. "And, no, I haven't seen Luna in a few days."

"Yes, but when was the last time you talked to her?"

"Perhaps a week ago."

Was it me or was Hermione avoiding my eyes? And was it me or was that a long time to go without talking to one of your best friends in the entire world? I dropped my bag unto the chair next to me but leaned over the table to stare the brunette down. She was up to something.

"A week? Really? Because I'm sure I heard Gin mentioning something about a phone-call three days ago."

"Oh," she said with a look of surprise, "I'd forgotten all about that. Ginny talked to her longer than I did - when I came on, Luna said she had to run so we didn't get to share much."

The surprise had been passable - still, I was suspicious. She caught on.

"Oh, come off it - you know how she gets when _Quibbler_ deadlines are coming up."

"Yeah, I do, which is why I don't know what she's playing at," I snapped. The yell earned me an angry pointed glare from the old man at the table next to us but I ignored it.

"Are you _pouting_ because she hasn't been able to get away from work to say _hello_ to you?"

"Is there any particular reason you sound as if that's unreasonable?" The librarian shelving books on the far end of the alcove was looking a little too interested in the conversation so I grabbed a text from the stack in front of her and chose an arbitrary page to flip to. "I simply think that she must have said something to her. And that you are talking to her right now. You can tell her that I'm not happy."

"Or you could pen her a note yourself and deduce why she wouldn't be speaking to you."

"Aha!" I whispered loudly, "so she _is_ mad at me? Did she tell you why? And why couldn't you just tell me she was angry in the first place?"

"That is not what I said!" Now, Hermione looked thoroughly exasperated. "You need to figure out what you did, _if you did anything_, then apologize or whatever. I have no idea whether she is angry at you, I don't know what you might have done to get her upset if indeed she is upset, and I'm not telling her anything because I don't have the word 'go-between' stamped across my forehead. At all. Now could you please quit attempting to start a row with me so we can actually do what we came to do and study?"

"Fine, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...but do you _think_ she's mad?"

"Again...I haven't the faintest." She glared severely and reminded me rather unattractively of Madame Pince. "Pick up a book and read."

This was going to be a long and unproductive afternoon.

_/-|-\_

_All I have to do is let someone know that I'm here_, I thought as I surveyed the singed branch that I'd just tossed at the Lovegood Place. Since when had the wards gone back up? What the bloody hell had happened that the wards were now up again? I spared a moment to thank the Almighty that I'd gone ahead and tested it out on some whim that told me not all was right. The branch had come within six feet of the stone walk and been flung so fast that it sparked in backwards flight. The blankness meant she was unavailable mentally. But there was smoke coming from the chimney - somebody would just have to answer me. _Now how am I supposed to alert them?_

I considered the damp grass and sat down anyway. I might as well sit while I make the phone call. On the first try, the phone rang once and went straight to voicemail.

"It's me and I'm outside, waiting for someone to come by. Hopefully, you get this before midnight." I leaned back and stared up at the darkening sky. "Or in the next hour, really, since it's already half past six and the sun is setting."

I paused uncertainly.

"I don't know if I did anything to make you angry at me and - well, I mean I sincerely hope that's not the case - but I haven't seen you since you left and you haven't said anything to me. Now owls, no voice mails, just that message through Ginny. If I-" I stopped and took a deep breath here - "if I did something to make you angry, then please let me know. And know that I'm sorry, whatever it is, because I would never make you angry or hurt you on purpose. You have to know that. I wouldn't hurt you for the world, Luna."

The phone cut me off. I cursed and shoved the thing back into my bag before settling in for a wait. More than anything, I wanted to see her. She could be angry all she wanted (well, no, that would actually be rather upsetting to me) but if I could just see for myself that she was alright, then I could deal with placating her later.

"Dean?"

"Luna!" I scrambled to my feet and strode towards the house before I thought better. "Are the wards down?"

She nodded, her blonde hair like a beacon in the night. The porch light wasn't on and I couldn't see her face but from her body language alone I could tell she wasn't excited to see me. The thought stopped me in my tracks and left me standing uncertainly just outside ward bounds. _What the hell am I supposed to do? _I shuffled my feet and crossed the front of the house slowly. She still wasn't moving - just a hand on the door and her head peeking out to watch my progress. I walked slowly up the porch stairs, crossed it, then looked down at the face I hadn't seen in what felt like weeks. Her wide-set eyes were unusually shuttered, her hair (usually down and messy and wild) was swept up in a neat unfamiliar bun, and the radish earrings and butterbeer cap necklace that I hadn't seen for half a year had reappeared on her ears and around her neck. I didn't know what to make of the changes, I didn't know what I was to be sorry for, and I couldn't imagine how to begin groveling to make up for it.

"I got your message." Luna's face was the visual definition of 'inscrutable' - she simply was examining me in a manner that was interested in a detached sort of way. She didn't even move back. Clearly, I wasn't supposed to enter the house. I felt my anxiety levels rocket sky-high - had I really done something bad enough to deserve this treatment? "I've been busy at headquarters all week."

"Yes." Was that whisper supposed to be my response? I cleared my throat. "Ah, yes, I just wanted to see you since I-"

_I missed you._

"-I haven't seen you in days."

_I missed you terribly._

More silence. I stared at her while her eyes made another strange sweep of me and I felt smaller than I had in years. Was she actually being formal towards me? This was not the way I'd planned to storm back into her life, but a calm and detached Luna was the exact antithesis of what made me tick. I was scared to move to and fro because any sudden movement might send me careening over a cliff I couldn't see. Maybe if I just waited it out, she would say some-

"I've been busy." Her voice was firm. "You know how important this issue is for us, don't you? We started very very late this time and we might miss the deadline - I've been there everyday from sun up to sun down."

"Luna-"

"Did you have a good week?"

"Luna, please-"

"Dean," she cut me off quietly. I don't know if she'd had an inkling of what I wanted to say, seeing as I hadn't really thought past saying her name, but she surely wasn't having it. Her voice was even firmer, if possible, and her calm came off as impermeable. I wanted to touch her to stop her from looking at me as if I were a friend she didn't know, or a stranger she might have seen before, but she was untouchable and distant. "I really have to go but I will try to owl you tomorrow."

_You'll **try**? Try?_

"I hope you get home safely."

_You're wishing me away?_

"And I'll see you as soon as publishing is over, alright? Good night."

With a quiet close of the door, Luna shut me out with all the finality of a goodbye.

* * *

I wished with all my might that Dean hadn't come to see me last evening. I wished I hadn't listened to the phone message against my better wishes and I wished that I had been better prepared so that I could have known how to handle the situation. I wished that he hadn't sounded as if he were pleading and that I hadn't responded as if I could care less. I would have wanted the next few days to complete the rehabilitation of myself and of the Luna Lovegood I needed to portray around him and the rest of the gang. I wished that we hadn't started preparation for this issue so haphazardly and I wanted to believe that a lack of sleep and a smashed heart could excuse the kind of rudeness I'd displayed yesterday. However much I wished or kept wishing, it wouldn't change the fact that Dean had left the Lovegood Place slowly but without a backward glance. He'd moved as if his joints hurt, as if the act of placing one foot before the other was difficult and time-consuming.

I'd watched from the window-seat in my bedroom.

Daddy was as accomodating and as understanding as any father who hadn't the faintest clue what was happening with his daughter could be. He'd said the Floo Network was slower than ever, probably due to the interference of mischievous PyroKins, and that we could leave it off for an indeterminate amount of time. When I came down in the evenings to drag him out of his experimental lab and into the living room to stay with me, he didn't say a thing. Just his had ruffling my hair and a smile. Tonight was no different. The fire was smoldering in the fireplace, I was doing the final readout for Christopher's article and skimming through the page layout while he was editing the prime-time interview with Ollivander on the succession of wand owners by force. Sure it was a departure from our normal articles but a few readers had wanted to know more about how Harry and the mechanics of the Elder Wand, and we were nothing if not slaves to our consumers.

"My Luna love." I looked up to see Daddy peering at me through his over-sized See-Saw glasses. Perhaps he was more observant than he let on. "Will honesty not serve you well enough?"

"I don't think it will," I said slowly, "because if it could, I would have. He doesn't know anything although the longer I stay away, the sooner he will cotton on to it. I just need a few more days, Daddy. The best thing for me to do is to continue as I have been and wait."

He continued peering although he did not look convinced in the least.

"Dear one, I don't question your judgement. But I still think honesty would do a better job." He turned back to the article on his lap and readjusted his frames. "Do as you wish and I'll be behind you regardless. I just want you happy."

That was as much as I could ask for, I supposed. I stood, clutching the layout in my hands, and left the room without a word. I needed to think in my bedroom. What I was scared to deal with is 'him'. Because he was male and males hated speaking about their emotions, it was doubtful that he would have told anyone anything but Hermione had already sent an owl wondering what in heavens name had happened and why Dean was asking questions. I didn't bother asking after the questions because I didn't want to know. I wad having difficulty not accusing myself of being a complete cow. I was going to have to figure out how to convince Dean that nothing out of the ordinary was taking place. It was imperative that he not catch on. It was important that I emerge from this isolation the same way I was before I found that magic-forsaken recorder-

_He must never know._

The first step was to surprise him with breakfast. Dean was far from an idiot - I had no doubt that he was worried and anxious, but if I could simply pretend the last week had never happened, then he would begin to take it as is. I would never again allow myself to break down and I couldn't afford to push him away without setting off alarms. Not only that, but it would assuage the massive cloud of guilt that had been hanging over me since I'd seen him leave. I searched the drawing of the writing desk for parchment and a quill.

_A really big breakfast spread from Big's deli_, I thought, _and a note tonight to confirm that he'll be there._

I dithered over what to write to make-up for the last four days of silence but found myself coming up with lines as insensitive as the ones Ron usually sent Padma.

_Dean,  
I know I've been missing in action for the last few days and I'm truly sorry about that. To make it up to you, I want to find out what you're doing tomorrow.  
Luna_

It only took an hour for a reply to come.

_Luna,  
It's fine. I know you've been busy...I'm heading to my mum's house in the afternoon but otherwise, I'll be home all day.  
Dean_

Breakfast it was.

/-|-\

"Merlin above," I murmured as I struggled with the three massive boxes of food the next morning, "why did I get so much?"

It was nine o'clock in the morning, and I'd begged Daddy to let me get away for three hours so that I could come out here to surprise my best mate. It had also taken me about forty-five minutes to wake up this morning, which meant I was running a little early. Dean was an early riser, or rather, and early-ish riser. I liked to get up after eleven o'clock most mornings, but he was usually already moving about the house an hour earlier. Luckily, I had a spare set of keys Dean had left at my house for the front door and his suites and I juggled the boxes in the appartment hallway before fishing it out of my cloak. Another complicated prance and the key was in the lock. Thankfully, the house was quiet. I slipped my shoes off at the entrance, padded down the hallway in stockinged feet, and dropped the boxes off. Kippers, sausage, eggs, biscuits, gravy...name it, and I had brought it. It was a sign of how remorseful I felt that I'd bought enough for Ron, Harry, and Neville to eat too (and let me tell you my pockets were significantly lighter, for it) but I needed to wake Dean up for the surprise.

I dithered about in deciding whether to knock or to unlock the door. I decided on the key. Pushing open the door and wincing at the slight squeak, I slipped into his room. For a moment, I had to steel myself mentally and let down the barriers a little bit but after that I crossed the room to . All the preparation in the world couldn't have made completely immune to the way he looked when he slept. He looked younger, somehow, and more vulnerable than he did awake. His full lips were parted and he was sucking in air in slow cycles that made it sound like he was whistling every few breaths, but his eyelashes were rather long against his cheek and his arms were flung out as if he were embracing the world. Yep, no shirt, but the blankets managed to cover everything up until his collarbones so I didn't suffer a panic attack.

He was asleep and he was beautiful and it hurt.

_I'm not ready to do this. _I had bitten off more than I could chew by coming to him before I was ready. His very presence was now a slap to the face and a few of the twins' Skiving Snackboxes rolled into one. I closed my eyes briefly. Was this ever supposed to go away? Was I ever going to return to the ease that had marked our friendship before this? My beating bleeding heart was still on my sleeve. _But I might never **have** been ready._

And a standstill between us was the last thing he or I needed.

"Dean," I said softly, leaning forward and touching the hand closest to me. "Dean, wake up."

He muttered something and shifted suddenly which caused his blanket to wind up a lot lower than his collarbones. I kept my eyes glued to his face and ignored the newly revealed skin.

"Dean." I prodded the hand again then- Wow, he held unto it. He was holding my hand and I was fighting the urge to pull away. He pulled a little, then muttered something else that sounded like my name. I wondered how I was going to navigate this situation. Obviously saying his name was getting the job only halfway-done. "Hey, it's ten after nine, Dean. Time for you to wake-up! I brought food."

There was a tingling sensation in my head right before he pulled hard on the hand he was holding. I collapsed like a castle of exploding snaps. He opened his eyes and blearily stared down at me, now half-sprawled across his naked chest and fighting back a heavenforsaken blush. I beat that thing back with all the speed of a Nimbus 2011 and offered him a smile that was part strained part genuine. The tingling was a full-blown hum now and my heart was ready to beat right out of my untrammed chest.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," I said brightly and quickly pushed myself back into a sitting position, "I've been trying to wake you for ages."

His gaze focused on my face and he went through as many emotions as I have fingers in the space of a second. I could only pick out his initial confusion, and the apologetic one, and the pleasure that suffused his face at the very last.

"Luna." Did he _have_ to sound so surprised and pleased to see me? "What are you doing here? Don't you have work?"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Oh," he rumbled. He looked down at the hand he was holding, intertwined our fingers, then sat up fully. I needed a mantra to avoid temptation so I created one - _I will not look. I will not look. I will not look._ His free hands reached out to push my hair out of my face. "Well then. You did. Mission accomplished."

'There's breakfast out in the kitchen, by the way," I said brightly. Did I mention that I said this all very brightly? "If I could tempt you-"

"Tempt me? Say no more, I will follow wherever you lead." I stood, meaning to take control of my hand again but he sort of just...followed me out of the bed without actually letting go. When he stood, he surprised me even further by sliding his hands around me to pull me into a hug. "I know you've been busy, and I hope you finished everything mostly, but...that was the longest time I've gone in months without seeing you daily."

I didn't say a thing.

"I missed you. And I'm sorry if I did something that made you pull away from me. And I don't know what I did but I swear to God, if you just direct me in the right direction, I won't ever do it again." He wrapped me close then nuzzled the crown of my head. The guilt resurfaced. "Just...tell me if I do something because otherwise I won't know and I'll end up moping around the house for a few days or whining to our mates or irritating my grandparents to no end."

I laughed, as I'm sure he'd meant me to. I couldn't imagine him whining to his grandparents at all - and I'd missed him too...He pulled back to look down at my face.

"Honestly, the last five days have been the most stressful days of my life. Did I do-"

"Oh no, it wasn't you. I really did have a lot to do at work and I was under a lot of stress because we started print work-ups late, this round. I'd missed Master Ollivander very much of course, and I do sometimes stop in to his office to see him, perhaps a few times a month to see how he's faring - the interview by Daphne meant I've been seeing him all of the past week, really, and he even offered to help with any further questions we might get from readers still interested in wand succession, which is very generous-"

I was rambling and he had an odd expression on his face that left as soon as I registered it. My mouth was loose and my brain movements were loose and I was just spitting up enough nonsense that I felt like I had to go gather control of myself in the bathroom or something. Dean, arms still around me, now looked highly amused.

"I take it you're feeling a little bit guilty?" he asked.

He was watching me very carefully as he asked this.

"Yes. The bottom line is that I am very sorry that I was rude earlier this week - there's no excuse for it."

"It's okay to have a bad day, you know." Thank Merlin that Dean had _no_ idea the extent of the bad day that had brought on this entire affair. "Give me a heads up and I will happily stay out of missile range. You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in anything besides a pleasant mood. That's why this was so scary."

"Scary?"

"You have _no_ idea how much power you wield in this relationship," he joked.

_I'm fully aware of just how little weight I have,_ I thought sadly. Perhaps my emotions broke through my visage because Dean looked anxious again. I turned away to lead him out into the corridor, and down the hallway to get some food. _I just wish I didn't know._

* * *

I watched her the entire time she sat across from me at the table, drinking her in as if I hadn't seen her in months. It's amazing the things you notice after a long absence - and boy were there a fair amount of them.

It humbled me that she'd thought enough of me to surprise with breakfast this morning but her behavior was downright worrisome. Luna'd cut off a good inch of her hair and pulled it into a no-nonsense ponytail that left me more in the mind of schoolmarm than a young woman. Her cloak was a subdued grey, not at all in the bright colors that she usually favored, and she was wearing jean trousers (unheard of, nigh on impossible since she loved skirts). The beginnings of bags were forming underneath her eyes, she looked too alert and awake to be normal this early in the morning, and her silence was more somber than usual. I even got the sense that she was ill-at-ease with me...or with the house...though I couldn't tell you why. Honestly, when she was gazing down at her untouched portion of breakfast, Luna looked like the last week had raked her over the coals then hung her over a roasting pit.

"Luna, you look a little peaky again." She looked up from her tea with a smile that was less substantial that Headless Nick. I dropped my fork to really examine her. "Have you been eating and sleeping regularly?"

"It's just this week, don't worry-"

"Of course, I worry."

I reached for her forehead but she ducked out of arms reach with a speed that surprised the both of us. I stared at her in hurt astonishment and she stared back blankly. It was a careful blankness. It was a determined blankness. And it made me so angry that I found myself suddenly on a hostile offensive.

"I haven't seen you in days and now that I do you look stressed and tired and stretched thin. I'm not trying to interrogate you or anger you or _anything_ of the sort. I simply would like to know if you're feeling okay, alright?"

A look flitted across her face before I could identify it. I didn't even care.

"Jesus Christ," I swore under my breath. "Forget it."

"I'm-"

"Yeah, just forget it," I cut her off as I rose from the table. I stacked our plates without looking at her, then made to carry them off into the kitchen. "Sorry I snapped at you - I'm an ass and that was uncalled for."

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the tinkling of china as I washed up the dishes. _After a week of utter bullshit, she does her best to make it up to me with this and then ducks when I try to check her temperature? Are you fucking kidding me? _It felt like a slap in my face. It felt like she was hiding something from me. It felt like I was still on shaky ground with her, like I _had _done something to offend her last week that she was keeping from me to protect my feelings but she couldn't let go. Obviously, since she was feeling so damned uncomfortable around me, I was still on her bad side. If she would just bloody tell me what I'd done, I could make it better. Instead, she clung tightly to her 'oh, it's work' excuse. As if I was an idiot. When I was done, I wiped my hands on the kitchen towel and leaned back against the opposite cabinet. I was too irked to cross the short distance to resume my seat next to her, I didn't feel like talking, and quite frankly I wanted I wanted her gone.

Honestly.

I had _never_ been irritated by Luna before this but right now I couldn't even look at her. And what in God's name was wrong with me that I was acting like such a bastard? I hated it. I hated this.

"Didn't you say you've been working from sun up to sun down for this edition? You should probably get going then."

I stared her down and, for a moment, her blue eyes looked wet. Then she blinked and I knew better.

"Yes, I should. Just...yes, I'll just go right ahead."

"Good...wouldn't want to keep you from such time-consuming work."

I turned back to the empty sink and ran the water so I wouldn't have to look at her. Without another word, she picked up her purse and headed for the door. I didn't raise my head and I didn't open my mouth to say goodbye.


	10. Clouds & Sun All at Once

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: Firstly, I'd like to point out that on my profile page is the link to my deviantart that has the photographs of Draco and Hermione, wedding day, for viewing.  
There's a bridge over troubled water. More sad love songs - FrouFrou's _It's Good To Be In Love _& _The Dumbing Down of Love_, Kate Havnevik's _Sleepless _& _Unlike Me_, A Fine Frenzy's _Ashes and Wine_. Then happier songs like Keith Urban's _Kiss A Girl_, ****Imogen Heap's _Half-Life_, TaeYang's _I Need A Girl, _Miguel Jontel's _Strawberry Amazing_, Samantha James' _I Found You_**! Dean and Luna can't help themselves, can they? Enjoy.

* * *

Chapter 10 – Clouds and Sun All at Once

_If it's raining here and it's raining there, then why didn't you just say it's raining everywhere? _- _a curious Luna to Dean, over the phone, at the beginning of summer._

* * *

"Is something...wrong?"

I tore my gaze from the press machine's frenetic whirring to stare blankly at my dark-haired partner. Christopher had just returned from a short trip to Bulgaria with his fiancée where he'd had a rather unfortunate run-in with a hag. The run-in had left him with constant symptoms of shock - stuttering, slight shaking, even the occasional eye-twitch. With daily ingestion of the Draught of Peace, he was supposed to look a lot less anxious than he was looking right now. What he was worrying about at the moment, I hadn't the faintest.

"No," I said slowly, "but is something the matter with you?"

He flushed and I amended my words.

"What I mean to say is...is there something wrong that you'd like to tell me about?"

"W-well, that's actually what I was asking you." I stared at him in confusion and his hands twitched as if he was fighting a sudden urge to wring them. "You seem strained today."

..._Do I?_

I didn't pretend to think why. One of the few people who could so completely ruin my defenses was Dean Thomas, and 'The Big Blow-Out', as I was now referring to it, had been two mornings ago. It felt like years. It felt like an added weight atop my shoulders. It felt, literally, like the end of the world. In the year and a bit since we'd become friends, I had rarely seen Dean truly irritated. Oh, he and the rest of the boys got into their fair share of spats but I'd never seen him come even close to rare form. Ginny had told me a long time ago that it took Dean a little bit to get irritated but a _lot_ to get roaring angry, and that while they'd dated, he'd never come that close. She hadn't seen him that morning.

He wouldn't look at me.

I was just...so...shocked. I honestly hadn't been trying to evade the question - in the days that followed, many more people told me that I looked tired - but it hadn't been a response that was meant to spite him or keep him in the dark or even consciously distance him from myself. When he'd gotten so mad that he'd raised his voice, you could have knocked me over with a simple spell. A breath of a wind, a slight push, a bloody _feather_ could have done me serious damage in that moment. We have never had even so much as a mild disagreement. And now suddenly...this? Had _I_ made him this angry? Had _I_ so angered him that he was now yelling at me? Had I been so short with him that he thought me _insensitive_? How Had I done this? He wouldn't look at me as he took the dishes away, as he methodically washed them the Muggle way in the sink, or as he wiped his hand on the grey kitchen towel he liked to cook with. I'd sat at the table, stunned and staring. . I was so shocked. And then when he did finally look at me, it was absolutely frigid.

No smile. No further apologies.

"I-"

"I know this m-might be forward of m-me, but you always wave th-things off like this." Christopher cleared his throat and The stuttering was an indication that his anxiety levels were rising. He'd probably need another Calming Drought within the hour. "Maybe you just d-don't want anyone to worry, b-but it makes people w-worry anyway."

"Oh." I didn't know what to say so I turned back to watch the machine spitting out the cover of the magazine. "Ah, well. It's not much - just the arranged marriage business. How goes it with Helen, by the way?"

"Well!" His sallow complexion brightened considerably as he smiled. "V-very well. You know..."

I drifted away in the sea of my own thoughts. It had been another battle not to burst into tears in front of him. Imagine that, Luna Lovegood, the least emotional girl on the planet, was close to succumbing to tears for the second time that week, and possible the fifth time in her entire sixteen years of existence. I'd shakily grabbed my keys off the counter and rushed out of the apartment. I waited for the elevator with erratic breaths, jamming my hand against the button enough times to break the poor thing, and tapped my feet. Anything was good enough to distract me from the pain. Providence wouldn't let me alone just yet though - Ron, coming back from his morning run, on the other side of the elevator door had greeted me with a hug.

Then he'd pulled away and taken a really good look at my face before I could slip by him into the open elevator box.

"Luna, is everything alright?"

I'd slapped a bright smile unto my face ('Yes, of course! I just stopped by to bring you all food before I disappeared into work again') and abandoned the elevator for the stairs. Ten minutes later, I was back at home and hiccuping with tears. I'd allowed myself a good five minutes of unrestrained grief then washed up and apparated to work. I hadn't left _Quibbler _headquarters since, and I didn't really plan to in the future.

"...and I just n-never thought I'd find s-someone who understood me so well. It's a b-blessing."

Christopher, bless him, still looked blissfully happy and markedly less anxious than he had before our discussion.

"She sounds like a lovely person." I patted his shoulder. "I'm happy for you, and I'm almost excited as you are for the wedding."

"Really?"

I laughed at the look on his face.

"Truly - the calming potions ought to have straightened you out before then."

We looked up when Karen poked her head into the room-

"Luna, it's another owl for you."

She didn't wait for much more than a nod before she disappeared. I smiled ruefully at Chris, then excused myself to make a walk I wasn't keen on making. Headquarters had a very small owlery that we kept mainly for our reader's response. Our base had been steadily growing in the last year and Daddy had plans to expand it. I pushed the door open to the small room and looked at interest at the few owls roosting up in the rafters or eating owl treats by the window. Sure enough, there was a new rolled up parchment in the 'Luna' pile underneath the left window. I didn't want to deal with it. I already knew from whom it would be. After all, Neville was just about the only one who hadn't written yet.

Hannah had wondered the same thing that Chris had wondered this morning, but delivered an admirably long-winded note to voice her sentiments. Cho's note had been the shortest so far - Luna, where are you? - and had been the only one I'd smiled at. Ginny and 'Mione weren't so easily fobbed off with publication excuses, and were asking whether lunch would be possible Saturday. Saturday was tomorrow. Saturday was too soon. I picked up the parchment and saw Neville's messy spidery handwriting to confirm my suspicions. I didn't care to open it - it would only be more of the same.

"You seen it yet, Luna?"

Karen, of course, was yelling outside the owlery.

"Seen it, thanks!"

I touched the writing and it smudged. For a little while, I stood staring at the dark blue ink smeared like blood on my thumb. When Karen called again, I dropped the letter back into the pile and walked away.

* * *

I should have been poring over my textbooks. Or perhaps helping with the preparations for Nev and Harry's surprise birthday party. Or walking the streets looking for a new collar for Cub, who was currently sleeping at the foot of my bed. Or...well...anything that didn't include lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. See, the problem was that I was getting way too acquainted with this particular view. Two weeks ago I wouldn't have been able to tell you that there were two small cracks in the plaster on the left side of the bedroom, or that there was a strange dab of pink paint that looked like a misshapen heart directly above my head. Two weeks ago, I was watching my best mates conquer Quidditch trials and teaching Sophie to ride a back while Sammie watched and feeling really good about my prospects for the Healing Exam.

Two weeks ago, I was on excellent terms with Luna Lovegood.

Now, I was plain out of sorts. I'd descended steadily into a rare mood and everyone around me was on to it. Monday, I'd snapped at Ron when he'd asked me repeatedly who West Ham was supposed to be playing on television (which lead to a short row that ended with me apologizing rather snarkily), Tuesday had seen me take Ginny's head off when she'd wondered aloud who'd eaten the rest of the bread in the pantry, and Wednesday I'd dropped to an all new low when I'd lost my temper with Adi and the twins. It had been something completely arbitrary and harmless - there was no rhyme nor reason to my irritation and I'd felt bad _immediately _afterwards but Mum had sent me packing anyway. None of my younger siblings were on speaking terms with me at the present. Half of my roomates were probably sore at me too.

_Yeah, well, fall in line,_ I thought on the edge of a sigh. Self-quarantine was the best way to get myself into situations where I'd do less thinking and more yelling. I'd never been on tenterhooks for so long...damn me if this bad mood was still growing worse as the week progressed. _By Friday, I'll probably need a professional Healer._

Or restraints so someone could cart me off to the loony bin.

I knew without a doubt that I'd acted like an unmitigated ass that morning but, in my defense, I'd lost my mind a little bit when she'd avoided me. It was me, Dean, her best mate for God's sake, and yet I wasn't allowed to touch her. I wasn't allowed to be worried about her or to voice that worry or to act on that worry. Luna had always been so damned self-sufficient - always. She'd had to be what with the way she'd been teased before her Fifth Year, and with the absence of the mother whom she still missed very much. To some extent, I could understand that such habits were so deeply rooted that they were difficult to break. But hadn't we been through this already? It was like a personal affront, that ducking move she'd pulled, and an insult to our friendship. As one of her closest friends in the _entire_ bloody world, I should have the right to care about her. I should have the right to want to _be _with her and to look after her and...and...

Whatever the hell else I wanted to do where she was concerned.

Didn't she understand that she was _mine_ to do those things for? Luna Lovegood needed to understand that and adjust her habits accordingly and allow me to do what I needed to do for her so badly and - and -

I rolled over.

Perhaps I was justified in my irritation but it didn't excuse what I'd done. What I wanted was her. What I needed right now was her. I was going absolutely looney without her and while I knew a part of it was the proximity staple placed on the arranged marriage binding, part of it was also that my life just felt that much emptier when she wasn't around. I wanted her back. I had to have her back.

"Dean?" There was a quiet knocking at the door that could only come from Neville. "It's me, mate. Brought you some of Fleur's croissants."

He came in without permission with a mug of cocoa and a plate of warm pastries on hand. I sat up on the bed and managed a smile.

"Thanks, mate."

"No problem - I was hoping you'd come out on your own but..." The sentence trailed off while he shrugged. "Still nothing from her?"

"What do you do when you've torn it in a major way?" I asked him by way of response. "Letters, notes, flowers, chocolate, what?"

"Does Luna even like chocolate?"

"Only on special occasions," I said glumly as I reached for the mug and relieved him of the porcelain plate. "This is more of a 'Sorry, I'm an Ass and I Don't Want to Row Anymore' occasion...nothing special about it."

"I think the flowers is a great idea. She'll appreciate the beauty of a rare pretty flower, you know, what with how extensive her garden is."

'"You think so?"

"Definitely." Neville eyed the plate as if he was going to snag a croissant himself. "And dinner wouldn't go amiss either."

I stared.

"What?"

"I mean dinner at a restaurant or making her something yourself, oh-slow-one." The battle against hunger was obviously lost since he snagged two before I set the plate in my lap. The rest were mine, even if I had to fight him off to keep them. He grinned at what must have been a territorial look on my face but went on anyway. "Either a restaurant, though that didn't work out to well for you two last time, or you could make her something yourself. And if you let us know ahead of time, the rest of us can clear out of the flat to give you some alone time."

"You're a genius!"

"And you've been useless to the world for Merlin only knows how long." Nev stood swiftly, still munching on one pastry and holding the other in his hand. Something about it reminded me of our years at Hogwarts, and I found myself grinning unrestrainedly at how child-like he looked. All he needed was chocolate smeared across his nose and the transformation would be complete. "What?"

"Nothing."

"The word from headquarters is that print-day is indeed this Friday." He turned his back on me and crossed the room. "It has actually been so busy that she's been sleeping over at Headquarters for the last few days. Saturday will be her first day out."

I slowly absorbed the news before thanking him. She hadn't left headquarters in _days_? Had I been jumping to conclusions? Had I really just imagined an alternate reason for her prolonged absence? Was it all in my bloody head? _Oh, damn it to hell. _He waved my gratitude away, and closed the door quietly behind him.

* * *

"I would like to congratulate you on your re-emergence into the land of the living," teased Gin with the side of her mouth that wasn't preoccupied with the straw. "The boys and girls have all missed you, Lune."

"And you know who _else_ has missed you?" interrupted Hermione with a toss of - dare I, say it? - _straight_ hair. "We have! It's nice to have you back. How was print day?"

I grinned reluctantly, and then wondered why the expression felt so out of place on my face.

"Rushed," I replied and took a sip of my own. "I was honored to sit in on the discussion of wands with Master Ollivander but it was truly out busiest yet. I've been running around all week like flobberworm with its head cut off, and I haven't had a decent night's sleep in just as long. I finally got to do organize the entire magazine lay-out and most of the staff were really pleased with it."

I normally kept two copies for myself and for my friends to look at, and look they did, while making extravagant fuss over how beautiful this edition looked and how much better the organization was. I wasn't vain enough to think that this was the best lay-out _The Quibbler _had ever had but my friends made me feel better about it with their sincere words. It was a good thing the restaurant had a nice loud background hum of customers going, or the tables next to us would discover just how much Gin and Mione liked the magazine they were looking at. In spite of that, I found myself smiling again...it was quite nice.

"Those two are for the whole lot of you since we don't have any spares at the office." They would keep one copy for themselves and give another to the boys. Usually Dean bought a personal copy for himself but I hadn't had the guts to go the subscription counter to see if his name was still on the list. Well, I hadn't had the strength to do a lot of things this week. It was just as well. "How are lessons going for you?"

"You wouldn't believe the depth and breadth of make-up spells there are out there," 'Mione sighed. "This is an entire area of literature that I've never even bothered with - it's practically a different language."

"She says that now but she's tossed her hair about seven times in the last hour," interrupted Gin in a stage-whisper. "I bet she's been sitting in front of her mirror doing nothing but preen all week."

I burst into laughter while She Who Tosses Her Hair huffed in irritation and took a long vicious inhale of her drink. The redhead didn't look perturbed in the least.

"Anyway, Cho and Hannah have been asking after you so it seems we weren't the only ones who got the brush-off. Have you talked to them yet?"

"Yes, I have and I'm going to make it a point to meet up with everyone before word gets out that I'm a cow who purposely ignores friends."

"And Dean?" asked Hermione. She was looking alarmingly shrewd which, of course, brought my guard up. How much could she know? Had he actually _told_ anyone what had happened? I opened my mouth to reply but she cut me off. "Don't try and cover for him - he's been in a foul mood for the last two weeks, the likes of which I haven't ever seen before. I didn't even think it was _possible_ for Dean to descend into irritation."

I closed my mouth.

"I'm thinking you're the reason he's so off," said Gin thoughtfully. "Harry told me he yelled at his siblings and has been booted from his Mum's house indefinitely, which means whatever's the matter with you two is rather larger than anything you're making it out to be."

Now, _that_ I couldn't even believe. He'd yelled at Adi and the twins? Wait, Dean can hold on to anger for this _long_?

"He yelled at Adi and the twins?"

"Stop side-stepping the question."

"I'm not," I shot back with an amount of hostility that took everyone at the table (including me) by surprise. There was a beat of silence before I took a deep breath and regained my sanity. "What I mean to say is that I am at a complete loss as to how he could be so angry after so long and how that led to him voicing it against the kids, for goodness' sake."

They were still looking at me in faint surprise.

"Well, well, Luna Lovegood has a temper." The smirk on Ginny's face was as irritating as it was knowing. "Who on earth might have thought?"

"I do not - it's just been-"

"A long week, yes we know," interrupted Hermione rather tersely. "But it's also been the longest you and Dean haven't been speaking, so it's only natural that you're a bit on edge."

_Is that what I am?_

I am one of the least dramatic people I know but I was thinking that this week had been more along the lines of long, dragging and hellish. I would even dare that I was quite a bit more than 'on edge' unless that meant that I was slowly losing patience and sanity. I had only just realized the hopelessness of being tied to someone who would never love me a few weeks after becoming aware that I was actually deeply in love with him. I was loathe to bare my soul, even to these two, and it was a blessing and a sign that I was doing rather well on the surface if I my best mates thought I was just 'on edge'.

"We simply had a bit of an argument. I should have done more to reach out to everyone and I didn't."

"I think he's being a bit of an ass." 'Mione looked irritated by this, for some reason. "He's managed to alienate his family and everyone but Neville and Gin in the last week."

"True but he's allowed to have moments when he's moody," said Ginny while she frowned at the two of us. "Just because he's one of the nicest guys we know doesn't mean we should expect him to be sunny all the time. That's a bit unfair, isn't it? Especially since this is the first fight he's ever had with Luna?"

"You didn't hear him at the library," huffed 'Mione, "making a scene because he thought I knew something about whatever it is that she and he have been fighting about. He wanted me to tell her that he wasn't happy with her silence, as if it's impossible to get caught up in work, and then went on and on about whether he had done something to make her angry and that I'd better tell him if I-."

"All I'm saying is that he's allowed to be in a bad mood."

"It wasn't really an argument," I interrupted quietly. I lifted my spoon and dipped it into my apple juice, using it to swirl the ice so that it tinkled on the sides of the glass. It was much easier watching the drink than the girls, and if I were going to tell some of the truth, I needed to do so without interruption. "He has every right to be angry since I did leave the apartment last Tuesday without saying anything about it. Honestly, I've been feeling a bit out of it all week and I didn't want to speak to anyone. Not even him."

"But why?"

At the core of this was a new problem, a new issue, a new elephant in the room. Even if we hadn't had this row now, it would have happened later.

"I'm too private a person and Dean is too discerning a person. You know me - I've always had myself to rely on and Daddy to worry about and now I have you all but...that didn't change any of that reality. I really do love and appreciate everyone - it's just that old habits die hard, you know?"

"Oh-"

"It's not anything for anyone to feel sorry about." I finally raised my head and offered the two of them a smile - Ginny looked absolutely worried but 'Mione looked thoughtful. "I'm more inclined to keep problems to myself and fix them on my own...I think that while Dean understands that, it absolutely frustrates him. It didn't help that I had been out of touch for a week but when he asked whether I'd been feeling ill and I brushed it off, he didn't take it very well. And I didn't respond very well to his not taking it well, and so...so here we are."

There was a beat of silence.

"I sometimes think the two of you are so close that you don't know how to spend time apart," ventured Hermione. "You're both so in tune with each other that I guess you both take it for granted that you are entirely different people with different personalities, and that sometimes you need to_ say _something for the other person to understand you. I mean, this just goes to illustrate the fact that communication is key, doesn't it?"

"I'm beginning to see that it's important for him to know that he can do things like that without my brushing it away."

"I'm sure you two will work it out - you can't keep this up for much longer." Oh, but we could. I knew that the fault was mine and I knew that I needed to apologize but I didn't know how. Or, more to the point, I was scared to approach him only to be rebuffed again. Having Dean turn away from him was something that I knew that I couldn't take. "I'm sure he has something planned for you, to make it up to you."

I didn't have anything to say, so I pasted a smile unto my face and rejoiced when the waitress finally brought out our orders. Food to fill my waking hours was better than talking about my problems any day.

/-|-\

"How was dinner with them? How is everyone doing?"

"Fine, Daddy." I kissed his cheek as I hung my cloak on the hook in the atrium. "They told me to pass on greetings, and Hermione wanted me to let you know that she liked the Ollivander article very much. What are you doing here by the front door?"

"You have a guest." I stared blankly but Daddy smiled. "I'm going to visit Arthur Weasley for a while, by the way."

"A guest?"

"Didn't I say you did?"

Daddy smiled before he headed out the door. I knew that even if I called out to ask who, he wouldn't do anything more than wave over his shoulders. I sighed a little bit then retrieved the keys from my cloak before walking slowly to the living room.

Where Dean Thomas was sitting next to one of the larger windows facing the garden. He looked comfortable, and his shoes were tucked neatly underneath him, and the scent from the kitchen was definitely a product of his. He'd been here awhile. Would it be too dramatic to admit that I had to stop myself from backing out of the room? I mean, it was a natural reaction and I would have pulled it off quite successfully since he seemed absorbed in the play of light of early sunset and I could damn well make myself invisible if it meant that I would have time to compose myself before I met this challenge head on. I had _totally_ agreed with the girls when they said that something had to happen soon but, for heaven's sake, I was still scared and I didn't want to do this tonight and I needed time and space and a way to foolproof my heart and-

"Luna?"

A most un-ladylike word escaped my mouth before I could control myself. I clapped a hand over my face as I waited for Dean to blow up again. He was sure to take that the wrong way. I mean, we were on such shaky ground already that-

Laughter.

He was laughing.

"Firstly, I sure as hell deserved that." I moved a finger to make space to peer at him and was shocked to see that he was still sitting down at the window. By now, he would have made a move towards me. Well...at least he wasn't angry. Far from it. He was still chuckling. "I really do deserve that and I'm sorry that the sight of me produces the Eighth Wonder of the world. Or is it Ninth?"

He stood slowly, the chuckles dissipating. I pulled my hand away from my face and stared - hopefully not gazed, though I wouldn't put it past my subconscious - and wondered what was next. And what the wonders of the world were and whether I qualified as the eighth or ninth one. And why he looked so attractive in that dark-green button-up and black trousers. And if Daddy would return from his walk soon to explain to me why he'd gone ahead and let the one man I couldn't handle back in the house. Dean returned the stare. Eternity passed. I managed to clear my throat and spit out a single sentence in the chaos of thoughts swimming in my mind.

"When did you get here?"

"Around noon. I was helping him in the lab and I brought things over to make dinner with."

"There was nothing in the pantry?" I asked dumbly. "I really have been meaning to send another list to Illusory Grocer's but I've been falling behind."

He nodded and looked as if he wanted to smile. I imagine I looked as if I were more composed than a witch who wanted to crawl into a cave home to full-blooded giants. Or at least, I really hoped I did.

"So-"

"We-"

"Oh, go ahead since you were speaking first," I said hurriedly.

"No, no," he demured with that hint of a smile, "ladies always go first so please do."

"I interrupted so you really should say what is on your mind."

Another staring match, this time his smile faded away into something infinitely more serious and far more focused. He was too good-looking for that look to be anything less than intense, and I found myself instantly regretting my decision to allow him to speak first, though I wouldn't have been able to provide a conversation fueler. He was moving slowly across the room as if I were a small creature to be startled at sudden movements. Dean was too smart for his own good. I was certainly ready to bolt at the first sign of danger. When he was about a foot away, he stopped.

"Luna Lovegood, I am an unmitigated ass." Well, _that_ certainly wasn't what I'd been expecting. He was still so serious and sure. "I am an ass and I sincerely apologize for losing my patience with you last week. I should have held on to my temper and I should have held my tongue. At the same time, I want to know why you won't allow me to _care_ about you."

"Maybe we should sit down for this conversation." Even if he wasn't going to sit down, I really couldn't have done it standing up. "Would you care for anything to drink - perhaps a glass of water or a-"

"Why are you running away?" He sounded genuinely curious, which was more dangerous than 'upset'...significantly more dangerous than just 'upset'. I shut my mouth and racked my brain for something _anything_ that would throw him off track but came up at a loss. "We need to have this conversation before we move on."

"I am not running."

"You are. You are and I want to know why."

_Damn it all to hell._

"I am not running," I said quietly, "I am trying as hard as I can to regroup after a very long week without much sleep. Forgive me if I need a moment."

He sat down very suddenly but his gaze never left my face. Another long heartbeat of silence before -

"Come sit with me, Luna. Come sit and talk with me so that I can apologize to you and understand you better." How on earth was I supposed to say 'No thanks, I'd rather hide in the kitchen with the drinks' to that? I ended up smiling against my better judgement as Dean rubbed the seat next to him, then motioned me over. "Come and sit with me a while."

"I need you to know that it is not a case of permission," I began. He looked a little startled that I had changed tack so quickly but the sooner I convinced him that I wasn't running, the sooner he'd abandon the notion that I had something to run for. It was imperative that he never know. "As you know, it's been simply Daddy and I for so long that the habit of keeping things to myself is more deeply ingrained than you can imagine. I...I don't know _how_ to not be that way."

"You see," he said ruefully, "the issue is that I understand that on its most basic level but I can't help myself when you pull away from me. You did that before - the night you were sick - and I held my tongue because I wanted you to feel better. I don't know _why_ my reaction is so extreme but I do know that I have to be able to do things like that without you dismissing it."

"It's damned near _impossibl_e for me not to worry about you because you are one of the most important people in my life." Dean took one of my hands in his and turned it over absently, as if his fingers were seeking to explore my palms. "You're one of the most self-sulficient people I've ever known. I understand that you fight your own battles and you don't _need _a protector but I can't help myself. When you're pale, I worry. When you've lost even the slightest bit of weight, I worry. When you've been working for a week straight, I worry. I worry when you're with me and I worry when you're away and it's because I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something happened that I could have prevented. Nor would I be able to deal with it. I _need _you and I need you happy and well and with me."

_He needs me?_

He needed me. The thought sped up my heartbeat even as I felt as if I couldn't breath. I suppose I had always hoped as much but I hadn't understood the depths of his feelings. What remnants of my heart that I had been holding unto for myself were reclaimed by Dean.

"I need you."

His hands were framing my face as if I were beloved to him, and that feeling of inevitably drowned me again. I knew what was coming just as well as I knew that I wasn't going to pull away from him. No matter how much I might cut myself on the memory of this kiss, I couldn't deny him anything in this moment. He pressed his lips against the shell of my ear.

"I need you and I need us to be alright again and I miss you when you're not with me."

It was agonizingly slow. Time sped backward then crawled to a stand still. Earth stopped spinning on its axis and the universe slowed down to the closing of my eyes and the feel of his hand cradling the back of my head and the strong fingers holding my shoulder. I lived a full life in the mere second that passed before his face drew close and my breath hitched. It was the hitching, and the mingling of breaths, that anchored me to the moment so my mind didn't escape. Dean's lips were firm and certain and he moved over me so intently that I found myself moving too. And his hands were so quick that they were there then gone again, then at my waist and tugging. He opened his mouth a little, and like a mirror, mine did the same. He took the opportunity to lick the edge of my lips then, and I gasped, and he inched forward to dart his tongue over mine. This new coupling shocked me and drew me in and loosened the lock I had on my mind so that at once the wall began crumbling but I was too absorbed in the warm wetness of his mouth to care about the breach. When he hummed into it, the hum brought me to life in ways that I might never be able to describe. And then his hands were touching skin and a strange breathy sound erupted between us that came from _me_ and I was arching.

When he pulled away to brush my cheek with his, I finally sucked in a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry." I took another deep breath and said the only thing I could. "I didn't know, and I'm sorry. I'm trying."

"I am too," he whispered before his mouth found mine again. "I am too."

* * *

_Alright,_ I thought as I pulled back on an exhale. _Alright, I have to quit now._

This moment was brought by nothing less than divine intervention. I'd really wanted to wait until tomorrow and plan out an evening at a restaurant with flowers and proper romance but Mr. Lovegood had owled me this morning with a friendly note that asked me to come over and help. Once here, the mechanics of the spell that was supposed to test the suitability of a core in a wand was a lot more complicated than either of us had thought and that had led to a few hours of experimentation in the lab. I'd forcibly called a break when the last explosion had rocked the bookshelf on the far end of the room, and he'd agreed that that was probably as good a time as any. I'd set about prepping dinner while he plied me with questions about the Healer Exam, and about my last visit to my grandparents and the Finnegans, and about the results of the Quidditch try-outs.

With a vicious surge of satisfaction, I noted that Luna looked as drugged as I felt. Her pretty blue eyes were barely opened and her hands were clutching my shirt and her lips were parted, and God, I wanted nothing more than to pull her all the way on top of me and kiss her again. I hadn't realized that my hands were wondering until I'd felt her breathing hitch in the middle of that last kiss, and then I'd pulled back because the last thing I wanted to do was disrespect her wishes. Combine the fact that dinner was cooking on the stove and we had more than a few reasons to quit it. Still, If I'd known all along that the sight of her would have had us locking lips, I would have come over much much sooner. She'd flooded the link with something so heady that I had responded physically. It was slow and serious and nothing short of amazing.

I wanted her.

"I'm sorry about that," I said while I brushed hair back from her face. The drugged look was dissipating, the feeling in my head was retreating, and a blush was setting in right on time. "The kissing was quite nice but I swear my hands have minds of their own sometimes."

"That's quite alright," she whispered. Another surge of satisfaction - _she can't even use the full power of her voice, can she _- and I helped her tug her skirt back down her thighs. I barely kept my damned hands from wandering again. On second thought, the sight of all that skin had my blood rushing elsewhere. Thankfully, the stove timer went off and alerted me to the fact that the baked chicken was ready to be removed from the oven. For a second, I dithered about trying to decide whether I could leave her here while I went. The blush on her face said that she needed time to recoup, but recouping would also mean that by the time I returned, she might have pulled away from me mentally.

I needed to keep her comfortable but I needed to keep her occupied.

"The chicken must be ready," I said as I pulled her to her feet. Her free hand smoothed her skirt again before she made a valiant effort to regain her usual calm. I wanted to help her along. "Is that a new pair of boots I spy on your feet?"

A familiar small smile eased my heart.

"Indeed."

"Where and when?"

"Karen at the office thought I needed a self-freshening pair." I snickered and started for the kitchen with the blonde in tow. She frowned up at me. "Don't even say what I believe you're thinking."

"That I think your feet smell lovely though I might, of course, be biased?" When she sniffed haughtily, I laughed. "I suppose that I could also just be impervious to anything in this house. But if you do have a problem with your feet, then I really suggest this powder that Mrs. Weasley has been going on and on about. It could do you a world of good-"

"Oh, do stop teasing - it was a very thoughtful gift."

_Unless it was meant as an insult, _I thought to myself with another ill-disguised snicker.

"And she has a pair herself so she suggested that I set it to smell like strawberries." All sorts of thoughts having to do with flushed skin and red fruit and whipping cream flitted through my head but she continued on obliviously. "It has four other settings that I think smell rather nice, and they come in all different styles and sizes for both men and women. She might be able to order you a pair of you'd like."

"I think I might have to pass on that, though later I would absolutely love to smell your toes to see if they remind me of the fruit."

She looked slightly suspicious at that but I kept my face determinedly innocent while I crossed the kitchen to get my wand from the counter, then cracked open the oven and levitated the baking dish unto a cooling pad. When she turned to get a cold drink from the icebox, I secretly peered into the pantry to see if the Lovegoods had any fruit. Another clear case of divine intervention - a small tub of still-good strawberries even if there wasn't any whipping cream. Although she wouldn't know anything if I just came out and _asked _her-

"Luna, do you have any whipped cream?"

"I'm sure we do since I gave some to Kit last night."

I paused, mind derailed momentarily.

"You gave Kit whipping cream?"

She looked surprise as she removed a rather large container of the stuff from the fridge.

"I shouldn't have?"

"He's going to get fat."

"Everyday is too much?"

I burst into laughter as I took the tub from her.

"You've been feeding him that every single day?"

"Well, I happen to like that mixed in with my milk so I rather thought he would too." You couldn't have gotten me to quit laughing if you'd threatened me with a hex. She looked thoroughly and adorably perplexed. "I'm sure he won't get _that_ much bigger."

"And I'm sure he'll be double come time for you to leave for Hogwarts."

I wiped my eyes, still laughing a little, and gazed at her. I probably wouldn't be able to do anything but stare at her for the next few hours, and if I could convince her, I'd stay the night just to watch her some more. Earlier in the summer, I'd kept from thinking about how much of this was me and how much of this was the Ministry's law. That terrible idea of a first 'date' had convinced me that though she was best-friend material, we would never be a traditional couple. I'd been alright with that. Mid-way through the summer, I'd been half-convinced that I would rather have Luna than any stranger because she was already a best mate. I'd learned new things about her and I'd gotten close enough to be able to read her at will. When she'd been so worried about Neville that she'd left the party, when I'd found her half-alert and discovered that she woke up slowly due to low-blood pressure, when she'd smiled so sweetly after discovering me in the lab with her father...all sides of Luna that I'd never explored before then. Now I was certain that I'd rather have Luna. Full stop.

"Come here," I said after I'd wiped my eyes again.

"Why?"

They say honesty is the best policy so-

"I want to kiss you again."

She looked as if the statement had completely and utterly blindsided her.

"Kiss me?"

"Well, that amongst other things," I said with a half-smile. She didn't seem capable of speech so I went on. "I want to warn you in advance that I'm only going to be good for eating and staring at you for the next few hours. I would love to hold you and I would love to kiss you but I don't need that as much I need the first two."

Despite the pinkness in both cheeks, she looked damned close to smirking.

"I tie with _eating_?"

"Well, that amongst other things." Her smile bloomed and I wanted her all over again. "Come here so I can convince you to do check three things off that list."

She came. Then I set about trying to persuade her that three was the magic number and eating could be left later.


	11. High, Hidden & Hiding

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: Firstly, I'd like to point out that on my profile page is the link to my deviantart that has the photographs of Draco and Hermione, wedding day, for viewing. A bunch of the others are also now up for viewing! Secondly, 'Gilded Silver' is my latest story - short vignettes of Draco and Hermione in different realities. Lastly, the first anniversary of Sunlight and Moonshine! I was working against the clock to make this deadline for my story's first birthday but I failed =D . Btws, I'd like to extend a warm thanks to everyone who has stuck with me and my stories, thus far. And a special thanks to luvHaru7 (whom I miss talking to regularly very much) mjmusiclover and KaitlynEmmaRose - you are all completely fabulous and dedicated and brighten my day with your reviews. This is for you!  
P.S. Happy holidays, my dears! I hope you enjoy it solo or with family, wherever you all are =D**

* * *

Chapter 11 – High, Hidden, and Hiding

_No, no, believing is half the battle. The Crumpled Snorcack is definitely real__. - Luna to Ginny, Fourth Year, over lunch_

* * *

Cub, sleepy little creature that she was, was currently the source of my immobility.

She looked so very comfortable in her position on my lap that I couldn't bear to get up to go to my room.

On the other hand, I really wanted to nap too before Dean came by to pick me up. I needed my strength to keep myself from liquefying in his presence. I needed my strength to fight back the high I still had from his words a week ago - 'I need you'. And I was still musing over all that had happened in the last few weeks between Hermione and Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy had finally come around to telling her that he loved her. What she hadn't seemed to realize was that she loved him too. For these two, 'I love you' and 'I am in love with you' were the same thing. Or, rather, they were indistinguishable from each other because they were happening at the same time. For a while there, she had fought it desperately and I had been a bit confused by her. If she would just give in already and allow it to work out for her since she was already _guaranteed_ his heart in return, then she would be fine. He was _also_ head over his heels gone for her. He had managed to be _humorous_ about her terrible response and used Gin and I to touch base so that he could keep up with her.

We hadn't seen any reason not to, neither had we seen a reason to inform her of this.

He had joked that I was the far less-dramatic of the two of us, and that I could be counted on to give the facts instead of a full-blown story. Gin hadn't been all that amused by that, and had probably roasted him alive in her next written response, but still...I very much liked Draco Malfoy. Very much. He was actually quite nice, a little sarcastic, but nothing anyone who had been friends with Ronald Weasley at his worst couldn't handle. I liked him so much in fact that even now, after he had successfully won Hermione over, we kept up the weekly communication. Indeed, another note from him had arrived an hour ago but I hadn't gotten around to opening it.

It was nice to think that the circle of people I could rely on had expanded to include yet one more person.

Ginny and Harry were still sailing as smoothly as ever, while Ron and Padma were getting closer and closer with each passing day. The only real issues lay between Cho and Neville. She and Neville were both such private people that it hadn't been until a little over a week ago that she'd finally confided in Hannah and I that they were having rather serious problems. She blamed it on herself, on how hard the War had made her, and she worried that she would soon alienate Neville to the point that he walked away from her. I secretly worried the same.

Right now, they were going through a bit of a rocky patch but I hoped to see them make up tonight at the Burrow.

Tonight was the early dinner in honor of Neville and Harry. Their double birthday party was tomorrow but this last ditch effort on Mrs. Weasley's behalf to throw a small dinner for Harry and Neville was to completely keep them off the scent. and we were going to have to sneak back out to the park tonight, after they were asleep, to put the final touches on the ground's wards and set up the stage for the music set in the tents. All that preparation in the last few weeks was finally bubbling down to the big event and the big surprise tomorrow, and it hinged on Ron and Dean being able to successfully trick the two boys into coming.

"Well, _you_ certainly look comfortable."

I looked up to see Dean strolling into the living room. I had no idea what it was with him and dark green these days - probably the influence of becoming friends with all those Slytherins - but he wore that color frequently and he wore that color _well_. My heart beat out its usual staccato pattern when he dropped a kiss on my forehead, then settled down when he knelt next to the couch on his haunches. He glanced down at Cub, then back up at my face with a smile that warmed me from the inside out. I ended up settling my face into a small smile before responding.

"I didn't expect you for another half hour."

"Where's Kit?"

"Probably destroying something upstairs - haven't seen him in at least an hour." I wasn't perturbed by this in the least. Sometimes, I thought nargles had possessed him. Sometimes, I thought he might have been born with the soul of a Niffler who might have had a penchant for endless treasure hunts in its last life. Whatever the case, Kit was often destroying something in the house. I couldn't be less bothered. "You'll have better luck than I, getting him back down here."

"Did she eat anything?" I shook my head. For some reason unbeknown to us, neither she nor Kit had grown very much in the last two months. It wasn't for lack of food, or for space, or that neither of them were up-to-date on the potions that were supposed to keep them healthy. I could still pick kit up with one hand and dangle him comfortably (if he didn't move around so much that I ended up bearing claw marks) and Cub was only a hand's breadth wider than Kit and half a stone heavier. They were both just uncommonly small for their age, and Cub for her breed. We hadn't the faintest idea why the two of them were hitting their weight milestones so late.

He stroked her fur then picked her up and tucked her under an arm.

"You _do_ realize she sleeps through most anything, right? You could get up and toss her over your shoulder and she probably wouldn't even bat an eye."

"Knowing that doesn't mean I don't inherently feel odd about it."

He rolled his eyes. "Do I get to see the dress?"

"Dress?"

"You're right," he said thoughtfully as he continued to pet her, "I know you far better than that - you'll probably go for a gypsy skirt and boots and bangles. For tomorrow, I mean."

"Look at that - you complain that you can't read me when, in fact, you read me better than almost everyone else." He looked inordinately pleased by that, and ended up dropping a kiss on my face, which by proxy made _me_ inordinately pleased. "You can see the outfit if you like when we return home. Just give me a moment to pull my boots on, and find Kit then we can get going."

I left Dean behind to search upstairs for Kit. He was usually good all by himself but he had been extremely antsy all day. I suspected it was because I hadn't gone gardening with him in a few days, and he was an outdoors creature. If I took him with us to the park, he'd get underfoot in no time. But if I left him in the garden He followed me into the

**_Are we leaving them both in the garden?_**

_Yes, and the gate's unlocked._

"Kit? Where are you?" As if Kit would suddenly sprout a voice box capable of human language. I searched under my bed and in the piles of clothing in front of the closet to no avail. "Where on earth could he be?"

**_Actually, Kit's already in the garden. The door was open when I got here so I just dropped Cub off and put food outside for them._**

_Still sleeping?_

I could sense the beginning of a chuckle.

_**Does she do anything else with her life?**_

True.

I tripped back down the stairs, boots on and wand in hand, ready to go. He met me at the front door and took my hand - the tame herd of butterflies in my stomach became distinctly restless - and we made our way down the stairs. If he had found ways to touch me and see me before the fight, Dean was outdoing himself now. I'd been thoroughly kissed twice a week on average in the last half-month. He'd managed to wiggle his way into sleeping over (in the guest bedroom of course) four times already, with my father's ambiguous approval, dropped Cub off whenever the rest of his flatmates were out at Quidditch practice or working at the Ministry (in Nev's case), and cooked enough meals at the house to be well within his rights in demanding pay. And the cooking always led to discussion which sometimes led to the above sleepovers.

Dean still hadn't the faintest clue that he was the match to my fuel. Funnily enough, he seemed to draw the line in public. Displays of affection were limited to brief hand-holding or brushing my hair. Although even _that_ was changing quickly.

It was all very...confusing.

And I?

It was difficult for me to keep myself grounded. I did not initiate. I didn't act outwardly different than before. I tried to keep my heart in my chest where it belonged (in fact, I had Daddy make an appointment for me at St. Mungoes for another check-up). But, heavens, everything was far more simple than it had been before...or at least, it _felt _that way. Before our row and consequent make up, I'd worried incessantly about making sure that he never _ever_ found out how I felt. It had been hard work trying to act in a way that was as neutral as possible without pushing him away or clueing him into my feelings. I'd _spent_ so much time doing the balancing act that it had become natural to simply fake some of my feelings around him and Dean was astoundingly blind to it. Now, I didn't feel as if I had to hide it. I couldn't touch the ground. I was flying. I was skipping.

I was _dreaming_.

I knew that Lavender's voice should have penetrated and burst the bubble by now, but heavens, I couldn't wrap my mind around it! Perhaps it was because of his admission of need. Perhaps the house really was infested with wrackspurts. Perhaps, I wanted to believe that I could beat back ghosts and defeat memories - but the larger part of me shouted down the small voice that warned me to be cautious. How could I be cautious? How could I slow down? How could I even begin to stop this?

I couldn't.

And I knew it. I was hurtling towards the edge of a cliff at breakneck speed but I couldn't help myself.

There must have been a nest of those creatures that Daddy and I had missed during the first thorough summer cleaning.

"Luna?" Dean looked thoroughly exasperated, which meant I'd been daydreaming for quite a while. "Have you been listening to anything I said?"

"About the birthday party?"

"Yes, of course."

"Have I told you recently that I think there's something wrong with the house?" His eyebrows rose in a way that said he was both unsurprised, and taking this change of topic in stride. I went on. "Wrackspurts. Something in the air that makes it difficult to think. I've been feeling very light-headed lately."

"Yes, I do remember what they are, Lune," he said slowly, "but I thought they made you feel confunded, not light-headed. That's about all I remember from your article, in any case. And what I want to know is how to get rid of them so that you can _hear_ me when I ask you to officially be my date to Harry and Neville's birthday? Because I would very much like to do this the proper way, with a formal question and an official answer from you."

Oh, is _that_ what he'd been talking about?

"Official?"

"Yes, officially."

I was stumped by this.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Now, Dean was wearing the expression he wore around me perpetually - amusement. "Is that all you can say? I mean, I understand that it is pretty much a given that we are going together but I'd thought I'd do the right thing and ask you. And all you have to say for yourself after missing the grand gesture and catching the end of it is 'oh'?"

"Well, what I mean is yes, of course."

"And I was supposed to gather all that from a simple 'oh'?"

"Well, no but...why?"

"Why would I ask you or why am I asking you? You must have missed the part where I said I wanted to do it to be a gentleman," he said with a small smile that lit up his entire face. I readied myself for another erratic set of heartbeats, and bit back a rueful smile when they started like clockwork. "And I wanted to have a reason to give you something."

I watched him reach into his trouser pockets and produce two things - one was a white ribbon and the other was a very pretty looking necklace with something I couldn't quite make-out on the end. My gaze switched from the presents to Dean, who was grinning down at me, and then back again.

My eyes might have rounded out to the size of small saucers, I was so surprised.

"What is this?"

"I'd actually bought the ribbon about a month ago to replace the old one from your cork necklace since it looked frayed. I was trying to figure out a way to get it off of you for more than a day so that I could switch the two myself, then present it to you, but then we got into that argument and stopped speaking." Sheepishly, he pressed the ribbon into one of my hands then held the necklace up so I could see it more clearly. "This...well, this I saw at a Muggle store close to the library and had to get because it reminded me of you. Apparently it's handmade fabric with flower patterns but I liked the way the peach color looked against black, and it _does_ have a lot of beads which I'd thought you would appreciate since you're into funky artsy things like that, and I _really_ wish you would say something instead of standing there looking utterly surprised."

His amusement was tinged with worry. Mine was tinged with awe. I was touched.

"Are you speechless?"

"Dean, you didn't have to." I rubbed the material of the white ribbon, then reached one hand out to touch the necklace. "You just - thank you...but you really didn't have to-"

"I know, sweetheart, but I wanted to."

Dean smiled again, a smaller one that was no less full, and pulled my hand up to his face. His gaze never wavered as he He pressed a kiss to my knuckles. Then pressed a kiss to the center of my palm. Then maneuvered me into turning around so that he could drop put his present on me. His hands pushed my hair out of the way and settled the necklace, then held everything up while he dropped a last kiss to that spot. I spun around by myself.

"So," he murmured as I spun to face him again, "can I take it that you like them?"

"Thank you, Dean. Thank you so much." I raised myself on the tips of my booted toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. "That was extremely thoughtful of you and I like it very much."

He looked a little surprised, then exceedingly pleased, and then looked that special way he usually looked when he was thinking of ways to get his mouth on mine. Since we were standing right at the gate that opened up to the path to the Burrow's front door, I debated letting him-

"You're here!" Percy Weasley, right on time. We both looked up to see the third eldest Weasley looking extremely impatient at the "Well, don't just stand there making eyes at each other since you're the last ones to arrive. Even Neville and Harry are out back already. Do come in before Mother has a fit in - she needs someone to set the table."

Dean was glaring quite pointedly but Percy didn't seem to get the message.

_**I don't suppose he'd consider leaving us alone, at all?**_

When I started to laugh, Percy looked as if he would stamp his foot in annoyance.

"We're coming." I waved the irritated redhead away, then took Dean's hand and tugged him towards the house. "Let's go."

/-|-\

"We all did very well, didn't we?"

The three of us stood arm in arm, a little ways from the hustle and bustle of the arriving guests and the frenetic movements of the employees of the catering company. The colorful tents looked pretty against the bright green grass, and the blues and reds of the cloaks that we had asked all guests to wear in honor of Harry and Neville made the park look festive. Even from here, I could make out the massive ribbons that the Weasley twins had set up in preparation for the birthday boys' entrance that actually transformed into massive rockets the likes of which hadn't been seen since Umbridge's days as professor. They hadn't told anyone besides us what the ribbons were for, but apparently Professor McGonagall hadn't been Head of Gryffindor House for nothing and had snatched Lee Jordan up to yell something or other at him. I smiled - I could only imagine what kind of dressing down she had in store for them - and tightened my hold on Hermione's arm.

"Despite the lives that were lost, the friends we still miss…" Ginny said softly.

"...life carries on," 'Mione finished for her, nudging us both in the side.

And life surely did.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was in my head letting me know that he and Ron were picking Neville and Harry up from the Ministry and getting them to the was standing on the stage and declaring that they were well on there way. I flagged Ginny down with a quickness, which led to a hurried stage announcement for silence and preparation - "I have just heard through the grapevine that the guests of honor will be here in less than five!" - then she channeled a field drill sergeant and started herding people towards the open space between the tents. Hermione and I barely had time to exchange amused glances before we joined in the effort. Padma and Cho joined us at the forefront, with Hannah trailing distractedly behind, but Dean was in my head again.

**_We're almost here._**

"They're almost here!"

The crowd surged around us before everything went completely silent a moment before there was a sucking sound. All four boys appeared on the grass, looking like the Whomping Willow had had its way with them first, but Ron and Dean were grinning like mad while Harry and Ron simply looked incredibly confused. They wore twin expressions of bafflement, arched eyebrows and mouths agape. The crowd kept quiet, waiting for the two birthday boys to clue in to just _why_ there were so many well-dressed people who all happened to be those that they loved in what was a rather familiar looking park.

When Ron and Dean drew back, Neville seemed to understand since he turned bright red. A moment later, Harry's face slowly suffused with the same understanding. Ginny made a stifled sound somewhere ahead, standing next to 'Mione, right before her betrothed opened his mouth to speak.

"All this is-"

"-for us?" Neville finished.

The crowd broke down into raucous applause, wild and uninhibited, while the two guests of honor seemed to recover their bearings. Not so incredulous or befuddled anymore, they began to grin. Happiness lit up both of their faces and I couldn't help but feel joyful too. Ginny, on the other hand, looked like she couldn't decide whether she wanted to laugh or cry. She looked as if she were going to shed her skin and fly with hands that fluttering at her sides then crossed her chest before returning to her sides. Cho looked even worse - nerves had taken over to stain her cheeks red. I exchanged a look with Hannah then looked at Hermione whose eyes were wide.

"If you can't wait, then just _go_!"

Ginny kicked off her silver heels haphazardly, sparing us one last glance, before she took off running at full speed through the crowd. Harry barely managed to open his arms for her before Ginny's feet left the ground and she all but..flew...into his arms. The applause swelled to ear-drum splitting proportions.

"Cho? You know," I said thoughtfully to the one who remained. "That means you as well."

"But-" she started as she wrung her hands.

"Go." Hannah smiled encouragingly. "He'll see that you care - he'll understand."

That was all it took for Cho to move forward, slowly and nervously. If I hadn't come to know her very well this summer, I would have thought her to be a wallflower by the timidness of her movements. I must have missed the point at which walking to Neville was like walking to the gallows - she crossed her arms in front of her, hunched her shoulders. I confess, even _I _became anxious while watching her make her way towards Neville. He must have felt her, or he must have understood since he waited for the crowd to part, to let her through. Her face was now an open-book: she was anxious, she was eager, she was scared and hopeful and proud. Maybe this is odd but she was the supplicant and Neville was the deity - in any case, that's what it looked like.

The crowd parted of its own volition, and a very hesitant Cho stopped. She now looked painfully unsure of herself, as if she wasn't sure whether he would welcome her or not. Clearly, she had reached her limit. Luckily, Neville closed the distance between them in two or three strides. His signature faint smile had given way to a full-fleshed one that Cho couldn't handle. Neville, gentle kind Neville, lifted both hands to frame Cho's small face. He kissed her, reticent shy Neville, actually _kissed_ her in front of the crowd. Not so reticent nor shy Cho blushed to the roots of her dark hair. Guests went wild after that.

I was distracted when I felt familiar arms slip around me from behind, and I tilted my head up to see Dean smiling down.

"Well done!"

"It was easy, since they didn't suspect a thing," he shouted happily over the tumultuous noise. Ron appeared over his shoulder, grinning fit to split his face down the middle, with an amused Padma by his side. "Right, mate?"

"Easy as pie. You should have seen the way we-

"Oh, we will but only _after_ you've changed into proper attire," interrupted Padma loudly. "In the white tent, both of you. Let us know when you're done."

_**Come with me?**_

I arched an eyebrow. Dean laughed. Padma swatted Ron's arm. We left them to it.

**_Or maybe I should just send you a visual to remember me?_**

_Don't you dare._

"Is he saying something?" Padma gave me a look. "Because if he's anything like Ron, then it's probably along the lines of 'Come join me'."

I smiled faintly and let her pull me along.

"I don't suppose the others have gotten the birthday boys to change yet? Because, honestly, what they came in simply isn't acceptable..."

My mind drifted, as it so often did these days, to Dean. How much more in love with him could I fall? Was there no limit to these feelings? At every turn, he convinced me that kindness and gentleness was exactly what the Healer had prescribed for me. Even if he wasn't in love with me now, he needed me. Didn't he? And wasn't that something? For-

_"Not on your life, Ron!" _I slowed down when my vision winked in and out, and a different reality intruded. It was like a double look-out, or lay-out. It was like something else had superimposed itself over my vision, and I was suddenly seeing darkness. I didn't realize Padma had gripped my arm until I felt her long nails dig into the flesh of my arm. The pain didn't help the vision any better but it seemed to bring the voices into focus. I started when I realized that I was somehow listening in to Dean and Ron.

_"Padma would have you on the chopping block."_

"Luna? Luna, what's wrong?"

"The bond is doing something new - having double vision." I closed my eyes slowly, pinched the bridge of my nose, then opened my eyes again. Padma looked as insubstantial as smoke. As I watched she faded away completely until all I could see was grey and all I could hear was Dean and Ron.

_"-simply saying that because your own girlfriend is way too laid back-"_

_"Girlfriend? Who, Luna? Not at all-"_

I blinked hard.

My vision corrected itself and the voices were snuffed.

And just like that my dreams ended, my feet touched earth, and my wings dissolved.

* * *

"This is the fourth time in three weeks," I said aloud. "Probably wondering why on earth I have so much free time right now, eh?"

I let my hands wander in the wet green grass around me and let my eyes wander among the wildflowers. There were new colors in the fringe right now - a new shade of very dark purple had joined the regular yellows and blues to make the burial site even that bit more colorful. It was always startling the ways nature could change but stay relatively familiar. I was sure the two of them enjoyed the new splash of color at their resting place.

"My mum finally convinced yours to buy a radio and listen to her show. I'm not sure how well this endeavor is going to go but your Dad's neither for nor against it." I tilted my head ruefully. "Which, I suppose, is the most that my mum can ask for at this point. And I brought Cub up here with me this time. Didn't realize until I got here that she would look exactly like the Grimm if it weren't for the small patch of grey underneath her left eye. Nearly gave your Dad a heart attack, that! And Lavie, you'll be pleased to note that the magazine seems to be doing extremely well. I wouldn't know personally, really, would I? You'd be badgering me if you were here to do so, but Luna is as good a reporter as they come and Padma's a good friend to her."

I craned my neck as far back as it could go and blinked my eyes against the sun. Today was clearly one of my chattier days. I hadn't spoken this much at once in a little while. Clouds were rolling in slowly, low and heavy, but I would probably have a good few minutes before the heavens broke open.

"Harry and Ron have started sitting on practices with their teams...Neville's leaving the country again for a little while, which is probably a good thing since he and Cho are back to being at odds again... the Healing Exam is in less than a week. I can't believe how much time has gone by, and how quickly it's going. I can't believe so much has changed. It's nice to be so busy but the summer is almost over."

Harry and Ron left with Neville in the mornings, and came home well late in the evenings. I usually had the entire apartment to myself, which really meant I had the entire day to immerse myself in the joys of studying - note the sarcasm - and memorize as much as a text a day in the quiet time. After the exam, the results would be in soon enough and then I'd be applying for open positions at St. Mngoes...Jesus, it sounded like I was growing up and taking on responsibilities. Who would have thought?

"Hogwarts is opening same day in the fall, as usual, and Gin and Lune are going back for their Seventh Year. I suppose I keep putting it off because...well, I guess I haven't quite figured out what the hell I'm supposed to do when I can't see her everyday." I chuckled ruefully. "And I don't think the damned Ministry has it all figured out yet either. Mr. Weasley keeps bringing home letters from irate parents of couples where one kid is in school and the other is out of it and Shacklebolt is inheriting all the rest of these problems come September."

I lapsed back into silence. I really hadn't given it much thought until a few days ago when I was hanging out at the Burrow with Luna and the Weasleys, and Mrs. Weasley was wanting to know if the lists were coming out any sooner this year. I had sort of just...blinked...a lot. Seriously, the thought had never even crossed my mind. How did the school plan on letting its younger couples meet up? When was I supposed to see her and talk to her? Most houses weren't as saturated with anywhere near as much magic as Hogwarts' grounds were - I doubted the newly developed handsets would work there. There's no way the apparition that binded couples would work but would that mean that the betrothed outside schools walls would be splinched trying to reach his or her love? And if not, would the school's inherent magic dampen the mental connection between us?

"Still, I guess I'm more inclined to worry about it later. It's nothing so dramatic as not being able to live without her, or sommat. I guess I'm a bit apprehensive because the week that we were apart threw me into a very bad mood. Of course it would be better with us being on good terms with each others. But we _are_ on good terms with each other now. Still...I don't want to think about it."

_Or maybe I can't?_

It seemed as if they were one and the same. Summer was speeding up, that was for sure, and Luna was leaving for the year whether I liked it or not. It was as if the first half of summer had been slow, almost dream-like in its sedate pace. Now, we were bloody well hurtling down the road to schooldom. And while Luna and I were certainly on excellent terms at the moment, the niggling feeling that she was hiding something from me had returned. I'd thought that we had dealt with our issues a month back after the big blow out, and that having everything out in the open would mean no more problems but sometimes I caught her looking at me in the same strange blank way she had before. It always passed away quickly, and she hadn't pulled away from me like she had before, but I was starting to become a little bit worried.

I was no fool.

"I just don't know," I repeated as the sky grudgingly gave up the fight against precipitation and a light drizzle began. I stood slowly and stretched, then turned my face up to the rain. Cold. Sharp. Piercing.

It was a wake-up call. It was a wake-up call in the same way Hermione's strange conversation in the library had been - 'Dean, are you sure everything is alright between you two? Because Luna doesn't seem happy' - and the way Luna's sudden silences were. Something was bloody well up but if I pushed, she would simply withdraw, She would blink and smile and pull away from me irrevocably. Many people saw her serene mien as a permanent character marker - and yes, of course, it was. But it was also a shield. It was a wall. And Luna Lovegood had no problem with setting up boundaries to protect herself...or to protect someone else.

The drizzle turned into rain. I shook out my umbrella and bowed my head once more before turning my back on the grassy mounds.

/-|-\

"He's hiding something," observed a worried Neville on my left.

We were watching Ron who had apparently decided to channel Harry and brood for the evening, this being the night before the Healer's Exam. Ronald Bilius Weasley had returned home earlier than usual tonight but had barely said a word. He hadn't talked about his day or bragged about practice or done much of anything besides heating up dinner over the stove. The quiet had been so unfamiliar that it had taken me a minute to place it. But, once done, I realized that he had become progressively more silent in the last week. It was only now that I had finally noticed. He was lounging in the chair farthest away from the television, staring into the night with unseeing eyes. Frankly, it was rather disconcerting to watch.

"Reckon it's Padma?"

"Definitely. Reckon he'll tell us?"

"Only if we bother the hell out of him."

Neville's gaze slid sideways. "The question is - now or later?"

"Now," I muttered before angling my head towards the brooding ginger. "Ron, want to come over here, mate?"

No response.

"Ron? Ron. Ron?"

"Yeah, yeah-" He looked at me blankly (I looked away briefly when I realized it was too much like the look Luna was so used to giving me these days) and Neville took over.

"What's going on with Padma?"

"She's hiding something." I was surprised at his honesty, how forthcoming he was being about it. "And I'm having a devil of a time trying to figure it out. All I know is Marcus Flint is somehow involved."

"The Slytherin Quidditch player who-"

"Flint? Marcus Flint? What the hell does he have-"

"Yes, Flint," he said sharply. "And the name is just about all I have at the moment. There's nothing else to go on, and Padma doesn't have the faintest idea that I know. I'm keeping it that way."

_Boy, do I know the feeling._

The inescapable truth that there was something that she felt or knew or thought that she didn't want to share with you and the resulting obsession you had with finding it out - Ronald Weasley was preaching to the damned choir. Where my worry was the feeling, his worry was the person. As a side effect of being one of her best mates, I already _knew_ everyone she knew and talked with. There wasn't any mystery person to link to my anxieties and I didn't feel the fear that Ron no doubt was feeling. Nothing good could possibly come from a man whom your girlfriend kept a secret. Although nothing good come from emotion so well hidden that I couldn't even get past her defenses to investigate.

"So, what now?"

"I don't know either." Ron's shrug was at odds with the moody darkness of his face. "I can't find him. But it's only a matter of time before something happens. Either she will slip, or he will. And then I'll have my answers."

_Well, didn't that just sound so positively non-violent._

"She loves you," Neville said simply. "She loves you. Whatever might come of this - and I do believe you since where there's smoke, there's almost certainly fire - I truly believe that Padma Patil would never go out of her way to hurt you. Even if you don't trust her right now, you have to believe in the strength of her feelings for you."

"I don't think I can handle the accidental pain much better than the purposeful one," Ron joked darkly. "It'll kill me either way."

"Honest to God, I know what you mean." I stretched my legs out in front of me before meeting his gaze. "I really do. And the waiting and wondering does almost as much damage as the truth."

Ron looked grateful.

"What's going on with Luna?"

"She's hiding something too," I said ruefully, "but unlike Ron, I don't have anything to go off and all I can do is flounder in the dark."

"Bloody well fucks with your head, doesn't it?"

I laughed at the redhead.

"But I'll never be able to get anything out of her - you _know_ Luna, she's as calm and as unshakable as , most times. Even after a little over ten months, I still have no idea what's going on in her head half the time. I'd thought we'd already gone over this last month, but here we are back at the same place where she refuses to lean on me."

"You haven't had a row, have you?"

"Not at all, nothing like that," I said, "but it's not done and we haven't gotten everything out into the open. If I had to- I dunno- guess, I'd say something about the way she sees me has changed. God only knows what I'm dealing with."

I caught Nev and Ron sharing a significant look - I made an impatient sound.

"What?"

"I thought that was fairly obvious, with the way you two have been acting," Neville said thoughtfully. "Are you...well, what I mean to ask is - are you sure you aren't in love with her? And vice versa?"

_...love?_

I blinked.

_They think I'm in love with her? _I didn't think I was in love with her. I mean, not that I would have a problem being in love with Luna Lovegood because she is a fantastic person inside and out. Not to mention that I now find her the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and that she's like this puzzle that's constantly changing so I have to be on my toes at all times to keep up with her. And I did love touching her. But-

No.

I wouldn't say that I was in love with her.

"I don't think so," I said slowly.

"Why don't you think so?"

"...Because it doesn't feel the way it did last time. I'm not in love with her. I really really like her, though."

Another significant look between the two of them.

"What?" I demanded.

"Nothing," Ron shrugged.

Arched my eyebrows, looked from one man to the other, but couldn't find a good enough reason to jump down their throats so I stood before silently deciding to let the matter go. They honestly thought I was in love with her? I shook my head and padded down the hallway to my rooms, to try and find a reason to return to studying. I gave it an hour before - I really tried to focus on these notes! - before I decided that my brain was filled with enough to at least get me a decent passing grade, even if it wasn't a 250% like Hermione's. Then I decided that boredom was a good enough reason to leave the house and...

...go to Luna's.

I wasn't in love with her - she was my...She was my- _Best friend? Girl friend? - _both, I supposed? She was both. And more importantly, she was my betrothed. And, of course, it was only natural that I would go over to her house when she was bored. Besides, she'd need help with sorting all the books she got for school. I would be doing her a favor by heading over there with my old notes from classes. I wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary - I was being _nice_ to someone I cared about. Even as I threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace and hitched my old scrolls over my shoulder, I snorted to myself.

_I'm being nice. I'm not in love. Just being nice...that's all. I'm just-_

"Dean?"

"Sorry, meant to call before I came over." I stepped out of the living room fireplace and I dusted myself off. I joined her on the sofa where she was curled up reading. "Slipped my mind."

Luna's eyebrows rose slightly, and she peered over the fantastically pink rims of those whirly glasses.

"Your exam is tomorrow. What are you doing here?"

"I've done as much studying as my poor brain can handle, and I'm bored. Can I sleep here tonight?" I hadn't actually thought of that before it'd left my mouth. But once out? It sounded like that was probably what I'd come over here to do. I wouldn't be able to unwind and quit being antsy without her. "I'll help you begin packing, and I've brought notes that might help you pass Potions. Anything you want."

"I believe you," she said, but those eyebrows hadn't lowered a bit. I wasn't quite sure she _did_ believe me. "I don't need help packing but I would very much appreciate you making dinner. I know the left-overs should have lasted longer than two days but Cho and Hannah came over."

"You said yes fairly easily."

She smiled sweetly and returned to her book.

Another evasive tactic brought to me by Luna Lovegood. _But what else is she dodging?_ That's what I wanted to find out.


	12. Yearning

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The longer line is a break in point-of-view. The old keys no longer function correctly  
Author's Notes: Happy holidays, my dears! I hope you enjoy it solo or with family, wherever you all are =D. It was surprisingly difficult to write the bedroom scene - honestly, I have no idea why. I had to get past the sweetness and then get to the 'rock-and-roll let-me-take-you' part of it, I suppose. Well, that and the fact that I had the Jeremih CD and The Dream on repeat while I tapped away lol. I do love this couple...I try to make them 'sexy' sometimes but something always comes along plot-wise to return them to their original fluff.  
Then comes the fighting, of course. P.S. We're nearing the end of this tale!**

* * *

Chapter 12 – Yearning

_Logic, you'll soon learn, is really overrated...emotion rules us all. - Luna, to Hermione and Harry, on basic belief_

* * *

I'd set my alarm early to make sure I woke up early enough to be alert before Dean and I headed into London for his Exam. I hadn't counted on him being a part of that wake-up call. Well, I hadn't counted on us falling asleep in my bed after talking about the test either. So, of course, my body was as disoriented as my head the next morning when I came to consciousness to find him all over me.

Everywhere.

Dean usually slept in the guest room down the hall but he'd been quite talkative and antsy last night, and had insisted that he needed to talk to get all of it out of his system. And because he'd been so very charming, I couldn't find it within myself to push him away. I'd wanted to push him away - I'd wanted to protect myself again. The aftermath of the wedding had been almost as intense as the first time. I hadn't run home to cry in my bathroom for a few minutes before throwing myself into work, but I'd needed to escape Padma (and everyone else) for ten minutes so I could put myself back together. This time, I didn't even bother to shed tears. I'd set myself up quite high for this fall.

The tumble back to earth was only to be expected.

So he'd wanted to talk and I'd wanted to shoo him out of the house as soon as possible. But how could I when he'd just wanted to talk? How could I when he'd teased me about _Quibbler_ articles and asked me about wrackspurts and nargles and made as if he'd help find the nest? So he'd remained, and we'd talked. And he'd gotten on the bed, first propped up the opposite way. Then he'd complained that my feet really did smell like strawberries and ended up shifting to lay the right way. And, somehow, we'd fallen asleep between words. Now I was waking up with him everywhere.

_Goodness, isn't this deja vu?_

My mind got it together far quicker than it usually did in the mornings - instead of a slow rise to consciousness, I experienced the same dizzying instant alert effect as last time. At first, I couldn't figure out where I was or what was happening and then I realized I was under the blankets and warmer than I should have been had I slept alone. Dean Thomas was literally everywhere. One of his legs was flung out over mine, a long arm was wound around my waist and the other was a pillow for my head. He was putting out more heat than a space heater, and what was even more terrifying was that he was _awake_. He was awake. And drawing circles on the inside of my elbow.

He was awake.

I reinforced my mental barriers and prepared to do battle with my heart again.

"G'morning." His voice was low and warm and rather rough, and it felt as if he had moved forward to bury his face in my hair. I tried not to shiver. "-was waiting for you to wake up."

"We're not late, are we?"

"Have another two hours before I need to be there." I felt him shake his head and stifle a yawn. "Did you sleep well?"

_What a completely Dean Thomas-like thing to do. _

In spite of myself, I laughed a little.

"I did, but shouldn't I be asking you that? And just how long have you been awake?"

He mumbled something incoherent and yawned again, then pulled me so close that I was flush against him. For a few minutes, we simply lay there in silence while the sun made a slow ascent into the sky. Dull sunlight shone through my window. He must have understood that I was back on edge again, or he was simply still enjoying his last few minutes in bed. Either way, the sounds of our mixed breathing and the warmth of his body around me was comforting, even as it was dangerous. Dean was so...so safe. He was so safe, and he was so familiar, and he was just too reassuring. I couldn't afford to let him see through me, not now when I so patently understood that he still only saw me as a 'friend', but I couldn't deny him anything. I couldn't even run from him now because I wanted to be around him - to be _with _him - so much.

Honestly, what kind of new self-inflicted pain was I devising for myself? How many more ways could I draw this out? How much longer could I pretend?

"I don't know what you're so worried about," Dean interrupted from somewhere behind me, I craned the back of my neck to see him propped up on the pillow behind me, looking thoughtful and...well, really too attractive for me to be at ease. "But I wish you would tell me about it. Or let me distract you."

A thoughtful Dean was not conducive to a healthy relationship. I blinked slowly, a show of calmness, then smiled.

"I was thinking about your Exams, and how antsy you were last night," I demured. "How do you feel now?"

"Not in the least bit worried." He smiled and I had to blink against the radiance. "Do you know why I came over here last night?"

I shook my head.

"Because you are...you are like my center. You are calm, serene, still. I'd been studying all day and I hadn't talked to you in a few hours and I was tired of stuffing my brain. You know how restless I become, sometimes, and you know how long it takes for me to quit when that mood falls on me." He shrugged his shoulder and tightened his hold on my waist. "The fact is - I couldn't think of anywhere else I'd rather have been last night than here. There's no other way to explain it. You help me calm down and you help me put things into focus. You're my center of stillness, or peace, or whatever you'd like to call it."

He kissed me. After that sweet speech, he kissed me. And I didn't know how to deny him, nor was I completely sure that I wanted to.

He gave me enough time to decide, you see, because he moved so slowly. When he drew back, he just cupped my face and stared at me.

"Remember when I said yours was one of my most favorite faces in the world?" I nodded sluggishly. He smiled mischievously. "I think it always will be."

...Yes, that was the sound of my defeat.

It was the final nail in the coffin of my struggle, and the death rattle as my heart gave up the fight. I wasn't strong enough - would _never _be strong enough - to stop this. The walls, literally, came crumbling down. Defeat was momentarily sweet - he pulled me closer, then seemed to think better of it, then decided that what he really wanted was to roll over. He was warm (oh, he was warm!) and his weight was heavy and I could feel his heart beat quite clearly drumming out a pattern between us. Or, perhaps, it was mine. Or, perhaps, it was the combined beat of two hearts mingling like breath between us, and I was the only one to tremble while feeling their twinned strength.

I wanted to open my mouth to try and say something, to try and make one last attempt at pausing, but Dean wouldn't have it.

He propped himself up on his knees, smiling in a way that left me breathless, then leaned down to brush knuckles across my face. Lips followed hands, the barely-there butterfly kisses distracting me from pretty much everything else in the physical world. All I could feel was his mouth and all I could think of was his lips and all I could do was feel. My eyes drifted shut. He pressed kisses down, down, down under my chin and across my neck while his hands spanned my waist and seemed to paint pictures and draw words on the skin of my hips. about He lingered at the swell of me - asking a permission that he must have known he'd already been granted - then his hands slipped under my shirt and-

"Oh, sweet heaven," I managed to breath out, eyes snapping wide open. His next kiss was a smile into my skin. "Dean, please d-"

"Just hush and let me please you," he whispered as he palmed one then the other.

I gasped at the switch, then gasped again when I realized that I no longer had a shirt on. When had that happened? When had that _happened_? How had moved so quickly and how had I not noticed? I went into full panic mode. I sat up and moved to cover myself with a quickness only rivaled by that of a speeding Snitch. Dean stilled my hands and pulled my face to his.

He was gorgeous, and he was serious, and the intensity of his gaze stopped me dead in my tracks.

"I promise I won't go farther than you're ready for or than you want me to - but let me do this. I want to please you."

I stared.

"Will you let me do this?"

_Oh...yes..._

He breathed out slowly and smiled again, and whispered an inaudible thank you, before his hands returned to their work and his lips to theirs. He pushed me flat again and started over. Face focused, body hovering, dark brown eyes gazing at me. Damned if I could tear my gaze away from him when he looked as if this entire experience was some sort of panacea to all worries, as if he had all the time in the world to rub his hands down my chest and gaze at my body. I held my breath as I waited for him to do _something_, _anything_ but he seemed to like looking at me.

"You're beautiful."

...well, _that _certainly hadn't been what I was expecting. I was startled into speaking.

"Not at all - I mean, I do think I'm fairly attractive most of the time and I do try and look presentable on a regular basis and I suppose it helps that I have Ginny as a best friend a decent sense of style but I'm not...beautiful."

He huffed a little.

"Of course, you don't see it. You rarely even admit to having an intensely feminine side." He leaned forward to kiss the valley between my breasts, then lifted a lock of my hair and rubbed it between his fingers. "I love how long and wavy your hair is - sometimes when you stand in the sun, it lights up like some sort of halo. And this is going to sound extremely mushy but I love how blue your eyes are - they remind me of the sky on a clear afternoon."

He started laughing a little bit to himself while I did what I do best around him - stare.

"I don't know anyone who smiles as easily as you do but laughs rarely. When I first got to know you I thought you were too serious to laugh. So I got used to your smiles and wandered about your laughter and the first time I saw you laugh-" He stopped and leaned down and kissed my nose. "-the first time I saw you laugh, I remember being so shocked that I walked up to Neville after you wandered off, and asked him what he'd said."

His eyes wandered down to the lock he still held.

"Purple foxglove - he'd given it to you as a present. You hadn't expected it and you'd laughed." _I had? _"You're beautiful and you don't even see it."

"I-"

"I have a feeling you're going to deny it again." He smiled and scattered more kisses across my belly, down my sides, then did scraped his fingers down my arms. "Luna, you don't even need to agree with me. No matter what you say, I still believe you're the most gorgeous girl in the world. I just want to someday convince you of it."

When he said things like that, it was easy to believe that there was hope.

There was something to be said for the stillness of his face and the friction in the air - then he descended and it was sweet. This was different than the others - he was gentle, and an unhurried. His lips pressed gently, as if we were kissing for the first time, and I shifted to meet him. He licked the seam of my lips twice - I opened easily, parting my lips to breathe him all the way in. He grinned again - I could just tell he did - and licked again before his mouth grew more insistent, and his tongue darted forward. Exploration was a heady thing - all tongue, open-mouthed, all wet. His hands grew insistent too when they swept downwards, and I arched right into the one that was busying itself with my breasts, and-and then he _sucked_ on my tongue and I stopped thinking about all the other things (truly, how did anyone _think _through this?).

He raked his free hand through my hair then sucked _again_!

"Oh, Merlin." Or, at least that's what I'd meant to say - it really came out as more of a strangled moan that he breathed in. "Heavens, yes-"

"Yes?" he asked raggedly.

He twisted his fingers in my hair and pulled me away then plunged downward with that blessed mouth and sucked every bit of flesh he could reach. His hands abandoned ship and struggled between us as he rolled over again so that I was the one on top. Firm fingers grasped the edge of my panties and, heavens I knew what he was going to do, but before the thought could travel to my brain his hands had slipped them down. The moment he touched me, the bond fractured and the pieces disintegrated. It was like a wide-open highway right into his head. It was like a Portkey straight into the middle of his feelings, whatever they were. He was very _very_ pleased, he was focused. I was drowning in his head, in his emotions. He must have felt it too but he didn't stop - instead, he shocked me when he smashed his mouth against mine while his fingers began a quick back and forth stroke on the outside of those lips.

I couldn't have been still if my life depended on it.

"Yes," I moaned. "Oh, yes."

I was rising.

I was thoughtless and breathless and dying.

Someone groaned - someone strained against the friction - and I found myself totally arched into his hand. He pushed something I gripped the cover of his tee-shirt and jerked him closer. He grunted once and tried to pull back but I couldn't let him leave. My arms wound themselves around his neck and dragged him flush against me while his hands brought new meaning to the word 'nimble'. I didn't even know it was possible for someone _do _that with only their hands, and without being - that is to say, in you! Wetness and warmth gathered at his fingertips, and I was having trouble keeping myself together. My hips swiveled once, twice, three times, before he pushed his free hand between us to force me to be still against the bed.

"Dean-?"

I ground my hips into the sheets and tried to blink the haze away.

"Shh," he said between kisses. "Let me."

"What are y-"

_Oh, my God. _The slickness was incredible - he slipped right in.

Oh, God. Ohhhh, God. Oh, my God.

"Oh my God!"

He was barely in and he was already far too much. I wrenched my mouth away from his and arched back into the pillows. Damned if I could keep my eyes open or my brain running on anything other than autopilot. Another garbled sound as his fingers made a few quick successions of a curling 'come here' motion at the entrance, then let his mouth . I was dying again-

I gripped his arm and he pushed father in, very slowly-

"Yes or no?" he asked on the edge of a smirk.

"No," I whispered, "Yes - oh God,_ oh God_, I don't know."

He laughed somewhere above me and muttered something that sounded an awful lot like 'Good, now hold on' then repeated the motion enough times to cut off air supply. Then his finger retreated a little ways only to slide back in, before he added another one. I was stretched, I was yearning, I wanted more and then he flicked something and I had my 'more'. I might have muttered a curse word, which might have been the reason he laughed again, before he proceeded to mimic the action for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes but felt timeless. His other hand was all over me...buried in my hair one moment, then ghosting over my arms and my chest before it squeezed my breasts roughly, then back up again. I had to grip the bed sheets, I had to grip _something_ when the world felt like it was beginning to fray at the seams. Then he stepped the _entire_ game up a notch when he lifted a leg and hooked it over his shoulder, as if it was the most _natural _thing in the _world_, and changed the angle of the stroke with another rough brush of his fingertips.

"Alright, I can't do this," I plead on half a breath. "I can't take this-...oh my God, I don't-...please-"

He swallowed the please in a wet open-mouthed kiss, then swallowed the moan after that when I started seeing stars. I was dying, I was stretched and wide open, and I was dying, I was dying! He made a growling noise that was as distracting as it was straight up arousing. I jerked upwards and strained towards something I couldn't quite name, and cried out when he pulled almost all the way out on a stroke, then groaned when he pushed in again. This time he made a sound halfway between a groan and a word, and used slid his thumb in to scrape against something that shot sparks off in my head. With lips against my throat, he spoke raggedly.

"Let go of it."

"Please-!"

"Let go," Dean repeated right before he bit my shoulder.

That was the trigger that shot the world to pieces right before my eyes. Breathless, thoughtless, gone. I couldn't draw enough air into my lungs to even manage a scream. Instead, my muscles locked up and my eyes rolled back into my head and I dug my nails into the sheets to hold on for dear life while I tried to ride out the explosion of feeling emanating from his hands. He clamped a hand on the leg hooked over his shoulder and kept up the stroking the entire time, fingers retreating and advancing even faster than before - then my vision went out, another wave knocked me back, and my spine snapped upwards high enough to bring my entire body off the bed.

I let go.

* * *

With her back arched and her hair spread out in the pillows like a blanket, Luna was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen.

And I was too much of a man not to enjoy the sight. I thought it absolutely endearing that she hadn't the faintest idea how attractive she was - honestly, to see Luna standing in the afternoon sun was to see an angel with her halo lit up. Her normally corn-silk colored hair took to the light so very well that I'd been tempted to by her a few hats to keep all that covered up. Then Ron, earlier in the summer, had to go ahead and say it aloud - like he was _surprised_, mind you! - and I'd known it wasn't just the bond. No, she was really pretty at her worst and gorgeous at her best. Not that it would have mattered much if anyone had told her - she wouldn't believe it, and even if she had, Luna didn't have any semblance of an ego. I can just imagine her smiling with one of her signature little shrugs before switching tack to ask something or other about some rare plant.

She hadn't believed _me_ when I'd told her, but it didn't matter.

I'd meant all of it, and much more besides. She _was _my personal calm - she could make anything and anyone more peaceful just by sitting with them. I'd woken up holding her this morning and just known that. The same way I knew the sun was rising in the sky and that the earth was still spinning on its axis. This morning she'd been alarmed, then hesitant, then surprised and cautious. Gone was the dreaminess she usually displayed, the leash she usually put on her emotions. Perhaps that's why I had been so intent on getting her to trust me. Those rare blank looks and the slight distancing - I couldn't stand it. I'd wanted to bind her closer.

I'd wanted to see what she looked like when she lost control.

With her eyes closed and her body open, Luna had been the most beautiful woman in the world.

Who would have thought such a normally restrained individual would be so loud in bed? I hadn't thought to spell the room before we'd started, and the sounds she'd made had shot straight to my groin, which made it hard to pause and spell them _during _so God only knew what the hell had gotten through the bedroom walls. God only knew why she'd allowed herself to be convinced but God also knew that I was thanking Him from the bottom of satiated heart. It had to have been His mercy, I swear to you, because there was little way otherwise that Luna would have gotten so far.

Well Him _and_ thanks to my handiwork, of course.

She was still coming down from the high, and while I was extremely uncomfortable (Christ, I had to get to a bathroom and take care of myself), I had never been more delighted. She'd let me touch her, and better yet, she'd responded enthusiastically. She was still breathing hard, a hand flung out to grip a pillow above her head and the other now covering her eyes. I leaned over and pressed a kiss to the base of her throat, still smiling the whole time.

"You alright?"

Luna made a soft sound between a sigh and a word, - excellent, she was speechless! - I pressed a few more kisses to her throat, her collar, the underside of her chin and felt her pulse speed up solidly. If I could just get in another When I got my hands involved in the play, she made that signature breathy sound that she didn't seem to realize signaled desire. I felt victory in reach when her sigh rose in pitch and turned into more of a-

...hiccup?

"Oh- d-dear," she managed to get out around the first set of three. Her face was comically horrified - her blue eyes were wide and alarmed, her hand had clapped over her mouth, and she looked as if her surprise might join forces with her blush and cause her to lose consciousness. I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

She didn't take to that very well.

_I really wish you wouldn't do that_, she scolded with a particularly disgruntled look on her face. I was well beyond surprised at the depth of emotion she had displayed already, so what was a little hostility to the mix? Besides, I had an unhealthy fascination with seeing Luna Lovegood at her most irritated. And as a man, she was a dream...topless and irritated was even better. _It's not very nice of you._

I smirked.

"So, you don't need that glass of water then?" She managed a decent hit on my arm and I rolled off of her to pull my shirt on so I could do as I'd promised. I stopped and waggled my eyebrows at her first, just in time to see her yank the blanket over her head. "I see that's a _definite_ yes to the water."

Another violent hiccup kicked its way out of her mouth and I shook my head.

_Wait!_

"What's wrong?"

_...Daddy. _She peeked over the cover and I laughed.

"Don't worry, I won't tell him that I've been up here having my wicked way with you." Her pale eyebrows shot up so high that they disappeared into her hair. Clearly, her emotions were going to be on display for the next few hours and I was going to get a massive kick out of it. I decided to throw oil on the fire. "Though I do hope he's a heavy sleeper."

She turned a deep dark red before I walked out of the room and sauntered down the hallway to get to the stairs. I grinned the entire way down, even through getting the cup of water - though when I almost broke my neck after Kit tried to trip me up, I wasn't grinning quite as widely. When I returned to the bedroom, the splash of water in the bath told me Luna had given up waiting.

"Are you still hiccuping?" I called through the door.

**_A little bit._**

_And you decided to drink bath water instead?_

**_Extremely funny - we have a little over an hour to get to the exam._**

Her mental voice was sounding dryer and dryer by the minute.

_The glass of water is on the bedside table, should I wait for you?_

**_I can't imagine why, unless you have a few more pointed jokes you need to get in before you go off to get ready._**

I laughed aloud - little Luna was unsheathing her claws! - and wandered away from the door to get my things together.

_I'm Flooing back to the apartment to get ready but I'll be back in the next thirty minutes. Don't drown in there, alright?_

**********_I'll do my best to survive without you, _**she said rather sweetly**********,_ though heaven only knows how long I've been taking care of my baths before you. _**

I laughed all the way to the fireplace.

OO

The Final Healer Examinations were being held across the street from the Ministry of Magic, the building where Mione had gone to have her make-up exam. There were hundreds of people milling about – the block was filled with what was obviously magical folk. They were all over the place, lounging in front of the cafés on street and the offices. All sizes and ages and fashion senses, many of them had the Muggle look down for the most part but others? Not so much. Indeed, one bloke went by wearing a trousers and a ruffled women's shirt in bright red looking pleased with himself. I looked away before breakfast could rise back up.

We ignored the excited muttering that always seem to start up around us - I was never sure if it was my height or the fact that they recognized two good friends of Harry Potter - and walked around a ways to see if we could spot Ginny.

"I think I see her over there."

I looked down at a still rather pink Luna to see her pointing a little ways to our left. She needn't have, since all that red hair was already making its way towards us.

"Finally! I'd thought that I was going to have to go in and take the test for you," she exclaimed while pulling me down into a forceful hug, then turning around to greet Luna with a kiss. "Honestly, what took you so long? Did Dean sleep over or something?"

Luna coughed so hard that I felt the need to rub her back to get her to quit.

"Oh, are you alright?"

**********_If you say something..._**

"I went to pick her up because she was feeling a bit under strange," I said smoothly as I rubbed her back, "I told her to I'd bring cough medicine but she didn't listen."

Luna smiled weakly while Ginny made a sympathetic sound.

"Don't worry, we'll simply wait until there in the door then we can tuck you back into bed."

**********_Really?_**

I knew I was on thin ice but I raised the hand I still held and kissed her knuckles.

_Feel free to thank me at any point during the morning._

She colored up beautifully. Ginny clucked her tongue and elbowed in between us.

"You use your considerable height to find Hermione while I try and ignore the fact that you're being rude by not including me in your mental conversation," she said sweetly. "Be a good boy and go on now, dear."

I laughed openly and moved away from them to do as I'd been told. It wasn't long until I saw her...and then saw what was keeping her. Rita Skeeter, the queen of treason and drama herself. I could feel Hermione's icy anger from over a foot away.

"You guys won't believe whose talking to Hermione right now," I tossed over my shoulders. "Rita Skeeter."

I motioned forward and walked through the crowd, not bothering to do much more than say her name to clear the way. She looked up, something of gratefulness on her face, and I clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder. I wasted no time in pinning my gaze on the royal bitch in front of us. I'd like to think the glare alone had her backing up defensively.

"New boy toy?" she snarled.

"No, actually." Hermione laughed and reached up to pat my hand. "Best friend. But I'm certain you knew that as well."

By this time, Ginny and Luna had caught up.

"I'm sorry, but who are you again?" Luna looked so friendly that Rita must have mistaken her for an ally. In a move as dramatic as anything Ginny could manage, Luna clapped a hand to her own mouth. "Oh, you _do_ look familiar. Weren't you in the papers months ago for sedition?"

_That_ was my girl - unsheathed claws and all - I slung an arm about Luna's waist.

"The reporter from Fourth Year?" I murmured politely. I knew very well who she was. "Well, lovely to meet you…traitor, was it?"

Rita bypassed red and went straight to orange.

"Actually, no," interrupted Ginny with a glacial smile and a once-over that had Rita stumbling backwards, "I think she goes by Has-Been at the moment."

In full sight of all the test-takers, the betrothed of the Boy Who Lived, gave Miss Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet the cut direct by turning her back on the reporter. And then, a parting shot-

"Shall we leave the baggage here and carry on?"

Without waiting for an answer, Ginny lead the way through the crowd. It wasn't until we'd entered one of the cafés across the street that any of us spoke.

"That woman is a complete cow," scowled Ginny, looking as if she were still trying to shake off the bad mood that Rita Skeeter was putting her in.

"I think we handled it very well," said Luna with a smile. "She wasn't physically harmed in any way."

_You were amazing, you know that?_

I grinned down at her and she quickly turned pink again. It was amazing to figure out that I had that kind of power over her. Luna somehow managed to worm her way out of my arms and next to Gin, with that pink stain still on her cheeks with nary a glance at me.

"That's probably going to make the paper tomorrow, though," I said carelesly. "I saw more reporters when we were walking away."

"Well, it's no matter to me since there were enough onlookers to set the record straight if needs be." Hermione shrug even as she looked more satisfied than Kit after a nap. "And I think she deserved it. Well, what with that spectacle, we now have ten minutes left until the start. It's a good think we came early, isn't it?"

I laughed. "You are remarkably happy. You _do _realize we're about to head in for the test that will decide our careers, yes?"

She swatted me on the arm.

"Why does everyone think that? I really wasn't that bad before. I really wasn't. And I wish you guys would let it go."

I snorted. Ginny joined me.

"Ooh, testy aren't we? It's okay to be a complete nerd. We'll still be seen with you."

A very huffy 'Mione opened her mouth to give us a complete set-down but seemed to get distracted by the movement of the test-taking crowd outside. I beat her to the punch.

"Time to go, time to go," I said, "we'll go by ourselves so you two can get back to Diagon Alley to shop today."

I hugged Ginny and then turned towards Luna.

_Don't think I've seen you lose your cool twice in a single day, _I teased her mercilessly. _I think I could get used to you if you decided to just permanently become pink._

Her particularly adorable glare came out to play. I didn't mind in the least and came forward heedless.

**************_Honestly, you're as disagreeable as a goblin whose lost his coin purse._**

_Disagreeable? Why, Luna Lovegood, I've been the most accommodating man on earth today. _I reached up to play with the hair that I so loved. _Don't tell me you've forgotten _just_ how accomodating I can be, after this morning?_

Her eyes narrowed even farther, if that was even possible.

**************_You must either enjoy being perverse or have an immense disregard for my feelings. _**I grinned and pulled her in for a hug that she did not return. I wasn't worried - Luna would come around as soon as I quit going at her.**********_Sometimes I find myself wondering if you even like me._**

_Nonsense, _I dropped a kiss on her forehead, _you know full well I adore you._

"Oh, shove off, Dean," muttered 'Mione as she pulled Luna away from me. "We need to go."

"She is adorable when she blushes," I whispered loudly as we left. I could sense Luna morphing into a tomato and it pleased me to no end.

"I don't know if anyone in that café didn't hear you."

Hermione was smiling appraisingly - I didn't care.

**********_Good luck._**

I turned back to see her standing there. She lifted her hand in a small wave.

_Thank you, sweetheart._

* * *

I had the strangest feeling that Draco was going to propose to 'Mione tonight.

When we'd greeted each other a few days ago after the Healer Exam, I'd only had an inkling of his intentions. The blonde was far more transparent than he thought in anything concerning Hermione. The way he'd been gazing at her, once got past his propensity towards amused adoration, signified determination. There was only one thing I could think of that could have him staring at her like that.

Marriage.

...or the proposal of thereof. Tonight was the perfect night for Draco to propose to her since it offered everything he could possible want in a venue - the home advantage and an avid audience. It was also an important triumph for Hermione (who looked so startlingly beautiful that I'd asked her if she'd been aware that pixie dust actually had a less well-known quality of lending an ethereal presence to the bestowed), and thus he would be the crowning moment of an already extravagantly happy evening. At this point, it was more of a conviction than anything else.

The evening had started out extremely well. We'd arrived to see the very merry band of tutors, as Hermione had secretly called them, and Narcissa Malfoy at the door of their grandest

I stood a little ways off from the guests and the dancers, watching the whole thing with a distant pleasure. I was happy for her - after all the nonsense that she and Draco had gone through this summer, they deserved to be deliriously happy when they weren't arguing. He was going to propose, they were going to be content.

Draco, as if sensing my gaze, turned halfway around in his seat to look at me. His lips curved upwards into a smile that I returned before he turned back to the conversation he was involved in with his best mates.

I let my gaze drift along the table, noting as many Slytherins as Gryffindors in one room celebrating for once. Blaise Zabini was looking unusually devious off in the corner with both Theodore Nott and Lee Jordan, over what I couldn't begin to fathom. Fred Weasley looked to be teasing Angelina Johnson into drinking something out of his cup, while behind him Padma had arms around the neck of an entirely smitten Ron. I lingered on that couple for a minute, just because of the worry that Hermione and Ginny had brought up a few weeks ago. They looked so darned happy that it was difficult to imagine anything darker simmering beneath the surface. Harry was being pulled out of his chair by Gin, who clearly was insisting that they join others on the dance floor but Harry was looking so adamant about staying in his seat that I could see the cogs in Gin's brain turning to spin out some other method to get him up. I didn't look on any longer, she won half her battles these days.

A cool breeze drifted in from the large open balcony, and feeling it, I turned to step outside.

"Luna?" I turned around to see Neville standing with his hands his pockets. He smiled. "I was looking for you. Leaving?"

I indicated the moon.

"Fresh air, and a commune with the moon."

He barely batted an eyelash, and we crossed the threshold in companionable silence.

"What's on your mind?"

I glanced over at him.

"My mind?"

"You sounded distracted on the phone last night, and I haven't had another chance to talk to you all morning." He leaned his back against the balcony railing, and started tugging at his black tie to loosen it. "I know you. What are you thinking about?"

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders. "Nothing worth mentioning."

That's not quite how I'd meant to phrase it.

"But there is something?"

I smiled a little bit.

"There's always something."

He was still fiddling with his tie but now looked at me thoughtfully.

"There is, isn't there?"

I wasn't entirely sure which way he meant it but I answered anyway.

"Without a doubt," I murmured, "without a doubt. Whether it's a large 'something' or a small 'something', it is always present."

"Is it fixable?"

Another cool breeze floated by, picking my loose hair off my shoulders and ruffling the folds of my dress. I wondered distantly whether Draco and Hermione had scented this place with honeysuckle, or if it was because they had a rather lovely garden right below that I was interested in seeing soon. I smoothed my hands down over my dress and gave the question a good deal of thought. I leaned into the wind, then inched closer to Neville and leaned into his side.

"Not by me," I whispered.

Neville nodded slowly somewhere above me, and I felt a hand touch my hair lightly. I couldn't begin to explain to you why my eyes filled.

"You seem so much quieter these days, so much sadder." The words shocked me so much - _just how transparent am I these days? _- so much so that my head snapped back to look at my best mate. The quick movement displaced the tears and, before I could stop them, a few more followed. Nev's face ran the gamut of emotions, finally settling on cold anxiety. "Luna..."

I briefly considered blaming an invisible speck of something in the wind but dismissed it. He would never believe it.

"It's nothing to worry about."

His frown spoke volumes in the silence. He was so deliberate about cupping my face and wiping away the wetness that I knew he was thinking hard. Another minute passed before he finally spoke.

"That's the third time I've seen you cry," he murmured, "ever. But I've never met a challenge you couldn't conquer. I just...I suppose it's difficult for me to _not _worry when you say this with tears running down your face. Are you completely sure it's not fixable? By anyone?"

His words brought on more tears, which he quickly wiped away. I was fraying at the ideas and I didn't even know it. Truly, this lack of self-awareness was the latest in my methods to dealing with my feelings. I guessed that overheard conversation had hit me far harder than I'd thought, and done more damage than I was willing to acknowledge. I just hadn't had time to If I was truthful with myself, I was-

_-heartbroken._

I covered the hands on my cheeks with my own.

"I'm sure I'll find a way."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of," he muttered, "and that's a problem. Just...I just want you to _come _to me if you need something, or if there's anything at all that I can do.

"Am I interrupting?" Dean was standing in the doorway of the balcony looking unusually unfriendly, hands in his trouser pocket and blankness on his face. I was so distracted by the level of hostility I was getting through the link that I barely noticed when Nev's hands dropped away from my face and my own followed. What on _earth_ had happened to make him look like that? I stood shocked when his lips parted in the caricature of a smile. "Because I can leave, if you two would prefer that."

"Nothing at all, mate." A glance revealed Nev's face to be inscrutable. I had no idea what to make of this. "How's the party going?"

"Perfectly fine, I'd imagine." Heavens, had the atmosphere just plummeted from cool to downright chilled? I started forward but a hand at the wrist stopped me. When I looked back, Neville wasn't even looking at me. But his eyes were...amused? The hostility through the bond tripled and it was so alarming that I immediately returned to watching Dean. "You don't mind if I join you two, do you? After all, I'm interrupting nothing."

_Alright, this is just strange._

"Dean-"

His eyes settled on me and I snapped my mouth closed. Neville let go of my wrist.

"Actually, I think Cho's looking for you, mate." I had to assume he was talking to Nev but his eyes never left mine. "She sounded pretty impatient."

"Did she? I'd better go see what she wants then." He made a rather obvious show of squeezing my hand before slipping around Dean to disappear into the party. I was so perplexed that I just stood there.

"So what were you two talking about?"

He pushed away from the entrance and strolled - seemingly...leisurely...but I wasn't fooled - to take Neville's place at the balcony. I pasted on a smile.

"About the party and the decorations and all the wonderful work that 'Mione's done for it," I said brightly.

"Yes, she's done an excellent job." He even leaned against the balcony the same way that Nev did, except there was no fiddling with ties or tilting back to see the moon. He just kept his eyes trained on me but...he still seemed angry. It unnerved me. "No one could possibly have asked for a better affair."

"Exactly, I-"

"What else were you talking about?"

"How quickly summer has gone by," I said quickly, "and how I'll be back at Hogwarts in less than three weeks. It's hard to believe that, isn't it? Summer has absolutely sprouted wings and flown right past us. It really hit me when we were going through the book-list for classes and when Gin showed me her Prefect-"

"Luna." His voice was low, tense, thrumming with anger and something else I couldn't put a name to. He lifted a hand to brush at my hair, such gentleness at odds with the anger on his face. "Don't lie to me."

My lips parted in shock.

"Please do not lie to me. I'm sick of having you tell me untruths to my face." He tucked an errant lock behind my ear, then cupped my face and pulled me in so close that I couldn't escape his gaze now that he had bent a little to be at eye-level. "I could feel your grief a room away, you know. Surrounded by all those people and it was like you were crying right in front of me. So speak, little liar - what aren't you telling me? What don't I know? And, more importantly, why is it that you can tell Neville and not me?"

"Did you love Lavender?"

He let go of me as quickly as if I'd scalded him.

"What?"

"Did you love Lavender?" I repeated softly. I don't know what perverse notion told me to open my mouth and ask that question but I couldn't take it back now. Dean was absolutely shocked. "Well, did you?"

"So _instead_ of lying, you use this to...to distract me? What, are you hoping this question w-will somehow throw me off _track_?"

"Why are you avoiding the question?" I persisted. "Is it really that difficult to answer?"

He looked furious.

"Because you're avoiding mine! And, yes, I loved her! She was a good friend before she became my best mate's girlfriend and fiancee! What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Of course, you did."

_Good thing I got all my tears out before_, I thought simply before I strengthened those mental barriers and turned to spit the biggest lie of my existence at him. He'd admitted it baldly. No qualms, no real hesitation save his anger, no denying anything, no nothing. It was almost easier to have him finally come out and say it than it had been to live with the unmentionable fear for the last two months. Almost...easier. Really, what was confirmation to my suspicions? Heaven knew that whatever hope had bloomed in my heart the morning of his Exam was now in pieces somewhere. Lovely, I was even waxing dramatic over heartbreak. _No more tears, indeed._

"I didn't mean to have that come through the link." I took a shallow breath and met his irate gaze head on. "We were talking about the War, about the Creevey brothers, about Hannah Abbot's brother Alfie and more besides. It's hard not to become sentimental at parties like these."

I took another breath but undermined it by turning on my heel and walking away. Let Dean make of that excuse whatever he wished - I was finally doing the one thing Dean had never thought me capable of.

I was walking away from him outright.

OO

For the next few days, I became an expert at how to avoid Dean Thomas without actually avoiding him. I was afraid to hear him say that he hadn't believed me and I was scared that I had pushed him too far by asking directly about Lavender. I couldn't imagine what had possessed me to do it, I couldn't take it back, and I couldn't undo hearing his response. I barely slept, I threw myself into as much as I could with the packing and the house-cleaning and the visiting so that I could have more reason to ignore any mental overtures he might try to make. I gave my phone to Kit, who did a wonderful job destroying it, so I'd have a ready excuse for the unanswered calls. I used everything from helping Hermione with her wedding preparations and overseeing Daddy's experiments to lunches with Cho and dinners with Hannah and Gin. I invited him along as often as I could, you see, but went out of my way to ensure that we never had a moment to be alone.

It was such an un-Luna-like thing to do that it would never cross his mind to second guess me.

And he didn't.

I had no idea what he was thinking these days. I guessed that he'd taken me at my word, though I didn't think he believed it, but we seemed to fall into a silent understanding that we wouldn't breach the events of the night of 'Mione's debutante ball. I couldn't even begin to tell you why that was - perhaps it was that Hogwarts really was looming up ahead so quickly that he didn't want to It was uncomfortable. It was unnatural. It was nothing like the way used to be, the way we usually are but it was the best that could be managed. Even if I never got any rest come nightfall, even if I found myself spending my nocturnal hours either crying into my pillow or staring blankly at the walls, it was the best that could be managed.

It was a mantra I could repeat.

It was a lie I could believe in.

Draco, Dean, and Harry came over to help with the packing the day before Gin and I were to return to Hogwarts. Neville had some urgent matter at work that prevented him from coming (which was good, since I'd also been dodging him...) and Ron had begged off to go be with Padma. Draco was the biggest help, surprisingly. The blond had complained for a few minutes out in the Sun Room before striding into the mess that was my inner sanctum armed with his humor and his wand. I left the room to say a brief hello to Dean, who was stretched out on the pink chaise, then returned to lean against my door frame and watch Draco work. I watched him wrinkle his eyebrows as he set to work with simple housework spells that would allow him to take care of everything. At once, every item of clothing in my bedroom started rearranging themselves into piles by type. Skirts, shirts, dresses, jeans - everything flew past him to land in a specific area of the room. Another round of wand flicking began the folding process. He stepped back to admire it with a smug look on his face.

I decided to interrupt.

"Oh, good. I didn't even know you knew how to do this."

He looked up with a pointed look.

"Yet you asked anyway?"

I laughed and surveyed the books over in the corner.

"Looks good, Draco Malfoy, looks good."

"Luna." I turned slowly to look at Draco, who looked thoughtful. "Is there something the matter?"

Well, I certainly hadn't expected _that_. It took me a moment to respond.

"There is, isn't there." I turned back to busy myself with the trunk. "Not at all, Draco."

"You really don't lie worth a damn."

What, was everyone around me in possession of a third eye? How many more people would be seeing through my facade in the next month? I turned back to him, caught the wry smile on his face and offered half-a-one in return.

"Anything I can help you with?" he asked curiously.

"Not at all," I repeated.

He looked uncertain.

"Well, I...just, if you need anything at all from me, I am at your service. And not just because you're my fiancée's best friend but because I'd like to think that you and I will become good friends someday too."

I'm sure I looked completely astonished for a moment, eyes wide and staring. Had anyone predicted a day would come in which I'd look at Draco Malfoy as a reliable friend, I would have been hard put to ask whether their brains hadn't already been meddled with by Nargles. But he stood there looking so darned confident that...I don't know, it just made me happy. And grateful, very grateful.

"Thank you," I said simply. "Thank you."

He squeezed my shoulder lightly then turned to exit the room just as Harry came in.

"Luna, I'm feeling the slightest bit guilty."

"Because you haven't been helping?" I asked dryly. "Draco has been doing a grand job all by himself, you know."

He looked faintly irritated by that for some reason, but I paid him no mind.

"He's probably gone off to get himself a drink so why don't you take his place for a little while?" I remembered to include Dean at the last moment but wandered how to make Harry stay the entire time. "Poke your head out there and call Dean to help as well."

He did as I asked.

"You called?"

I summoned up a faint smile for the man I was hopelessly in love with, and motioned to the completely folded piles of clothes all over the room.

"All you two need to do is get everything into the trunk - I'm not particular about order, I just want the piles to remain recognizable. Can you do that?"

"Of course we can."

"Oops, Gin's calling," interrupted Harry distractedly, "I'll be back in a minute."

_Damn._ This was exactly the kind of thing I'd been dying to avoid. An odd silence set in as Dean and I just looked at each other from our places across the room. My faint smile felt like it was going to crack down the middle, any minute now.

"You're right. Summer sprouted wings and flew right past us."

"Didn't it, though?" I broke the eye contact. "A single day left to get my affairs in order. Not that I have many affairs."

"You're wearing the butterbeer cap necklace...you finally got around to changing the ribbon?"

I nodded without looking in his eyes.

"It's one of the few pieces of jewelry I wear so often at school."

"I know." He flicked his wand and the pile of skirts leaped into the air. A downward jab had them falling neatly into my trunk. "I'm glad."

It was painful, it really was, to be this stilted. To go from the kind of friendship that made people envious to the kind of relationship where we couldn't manage more than a few sentences at a time. To go from wondering when I was going to see him next to hoping I might not see him at all. To go from blissfully unaware of my feelings to painfully silenced by them - to even discover that I was capable of much more than serenity, calm, and a dry sense of humor had changed me. Not to mention to go from hope when he told me that believed I was the most beautiful woman in the world to despair at the farce I'd somehow ended up in. It was hell.

"I'm glad," he repeated. "I'll miss seeing you all the time, but at least you'll be wearing that."

It was salt in an open wound. I abandoned all pretense of putting the clothes away and fled the room altogether.


	13. Swan Song

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The longer line is a break in point-of-view. The old keys no longer function correctly.  
Author's Notes: You guys are way too awesome! More LunaxDean angst and fluff to fill your March Spring Break with something to do. Is it strange that I listened to Taylor Swift's 'Forever & Always' & 'Tell Me Why' when I was writing this? Sorry about the long wait - family problems and school...meh. But, in my defense, this would have been posted LAST WEEK if FANFICTION HADNT BEEN ACTING ALL KINDS OF CRAZY. Gross. I sent them emails everyday and now it's finally fixed! ENJOY!**

* * *

Chapter 13 – Swan Song

_Yeah, but I said it and now it's out there. I can't take it back, even if I wished. - Dean to Neville._

* * *

_Amazing_, I thought as I watched Luna leave the room without a word, _how we've gone from speaking to each other like best mates to talking about nothing like strangers._

I didn't know what to make of it. I didn't know how to salvage the situation and I wasn't even sure what the hell the situation _was_. All I knew was that things had begun to get wicked weird the night of Hermione's damned debutante ball. Every instinct in me had leapt into overdrive the moment I'd glanced around the ballroom looking for Luna. The grief, the spike in anxiety, the sadness - Luna usually muted her feelings and minimized contact through the mental bond so I'd immediately known that she was feeling something awfully strong. And not just strong but she wasn't completely aware of its intensity, since I was now experiencing it as if it were my own. I hadn't even bothered to make an excuse as I'd ducked out of the group of men milling about on the dance floor so I could search her out. The feelings weren't a beacon for location (hell, she could have been in another continent and I'd still have felt her this clearly) so I'd had to look around for awhile. Once I'd found her, those same instincts had recoiled.

I haven't been that angry in a long time-

Okay, let me stop kidding myself. I haven't been that angry in _weeks_. This summer was full of firsts - the only time I ever seemed to get worked up enough to lose a bit of control over myself, it was over Luna. So, why should I have been surprised to discover that me, Dean Thomas, the perpetual 'nice guy', had powerful possessive instincts?

Fan-damn-tastic.

Jesus, I'd walked in to something right out of a romantic flick.

Neville's hands were cupping her face and he was leaning in so damned close that he could have easily kissed her and her _own_ hands were covering his. As if that weren't enough to make me see red, it looked as if she'd been crying and he'd been _comforting _her.

Jealousy doesn't even begin to describe it.

And here's the kicker - not **_only_** was I feeling doubly the effects of possessiveness that supposedly came along with this bonding betrothed deal, I was angry that she'd even thought to be vulnerable to _**anyone**_ besides me. Anyone besides me who was male, really. How long had we known each other? How hard and how long had I fought to get her to do even as much as...laugh around me? How difficult had it been for us in the last month, dealing with the effects of her self-reticence and my intense need to know? Did that mean nothing to her? Did all of that just go right over her head? Why couldn't she just...just bloody well tell _me_ when something was wrong? Why couldn't she trust me enough to be as open with me as she was with him? Why was it so fucking easy for Neville to be her confidante?

_Why do I need her more than she needs me?_

The guilt that I had felt in response to that question - what kind of bloke was I that I begrudged the two I loved most their friendship - was stomped into the ground when the scene unfolded.

Hostility just sort of sprang into life in my head, as I'd watched him wipe the wetness from his face, and then say something quickly to her when she shook her head. And what was worrying her? Was it the thing that had her blank-faced sometimes when she looked at me? Or was it something else - something new? I'd preferred it to be something new because the depth of her...sadness...was actually a bit unnerving. She couldn't have been feeling this way all summer and have it escape my notice, couldn't she? There was no way that I'd been that blind or obtuse, was there?

A new guilt, an old worry, and lots of healthy raging jealousy - yes, that's what propelled me into speech.

"Am I interrupting? Because I can leave, if you two would prefer that."

Nothing short of the hand of God Himself would have moved me from this damned balcony. I don't doubt Neville, smart bloke that he is, must have known that. Either I wasn't doing enough to make it clear that I wanted him gone or he simply didn't care. He was calm (God, they even acted the same) and unreadable as he responded.

"Nothing at all, mate. How's the party going?"

"Perfectly fine, I'd imagine." I hadn't actually made eye-contact with Luna yet, but I couldn't help it at this point. She'd moved forward and Neville had held her back, a hand circling her wrist, as if...hell, as if she should be cautious about approaching me. As if I were a wild animal that was going to attack. As if he knew he was about a hair's breadth away from death. I briefly considered wand-less magic to incapacitate him. I settled for being polite. "You don't mind if I join you two, do you? After all, I'm interrupting nothing."

"Dean-"

I'd stared at her, her face looking completely shocked.

She'd dwindled down into silence and I'd taken the opportunity to get the bloke formerly known as my best mate out of the way. "Actually, I think Cho's looking for you, mate. She sounded pretty impatient."

"Did she? I'd better go see what she wants then."

Neville had obviously wanted to die with the way he'd taken one of Luna's hands into his own and caressing it. I don't know if I've ever wanted to punch someone so badly. I could barely stand to let him pass when he had to get around me to get back into the ballroom. It had taken me a moment to collect myself enough to ask her the only question I cared about hearing now. She suddenly smiled, and the suddeness tipped me off to

"So what were you two talking about?"

"About the party and the decorations and all the wonderful work that 'Mione's done for it," she'd said brightly.

_Oh, apparently I look like an imbecile to her as well._

Anger was quickly turning into rage. She had no idea what she was doing by lying to me now.

"Yes, she's done an excellent job."I stared at her. "No one could possibly have asked for a better affair."

"Exactly, I-"

"What else were you talking about?"

"How quickly summer has gone by, and how I'll be back at Hogwarts in less than three weeks." I'll say this - if I hadn't known she'd been crying a few minutes before, I might have believed her. "It's hard to believe that, isn't it? Summer has absolutely sprouted wings and flown right past us. It really hit me when we were going through the book-list for classes and when Gin showed me her Prefect-"

"Luna," I'd said slowly, "don't lie to me."

All this elaboration, all this supposedly light chit chat, all this nonsense.

She'd been taking me for a fool. Avoiding my gaze and opening her mouth to lie. After...seriously? _Really?_ After the entire fucking debacle of- she really just couldn't tell me the truth? A single question that demanded a single answer? Then she would have to lie to me face to face, on the same level of sight. I'd pulled her closer, gripped the back of her head so there would be no space between us and brought her in. She'd looked as if she hadn't been able to decide whether surprise or trepidation would do her in.

I didn't fucking care.

"Please," I muttered. "Do not lie to me. I'm sick of having you tell me untruths to my face. I could feel your grief a room away, you know. Surrounded by all those people and it was like you were crying right in front of me. So speak, little liar. What aren't you telling me? What don't I know? And, more importantly, why is it that you can tell Neville and not me?"

Her face seemed to contort, and I'd thought maybe she was fighting some intense emotion but instead-

"Did you love Lavender?"

I dropped her and stumbled back in absolute shock.

"What?"

"Did you love Lavender?" she repeated softly.

_...What? _I blinked rapid-fire and just - well, I just stood there and stared.

_What?_

I couldn't see what the hell that had to do with anything that I had been talking about in the last two minutes, and while Luna was well known for being unable to keep on track during a conversation, this was going far and above her usual call of duty. She was doing this on purpose. What I couldn't tell was whether she was trying to dig a deeper grave for herself, or hurt me. She was doing an excellent job either way.

"Well, did you?"

-_What?_

"So _instead_ of lying, you use this to...to distract me?" I had to remain where I was standing because I was so angry that I wanted to grab her and shake her. She just stood there looking as if her question mattered - she was beyond shocking. "What, are you hoping this question will somehow throw me off _track_?"

"Why are you avoiding the question? Is it really that difficult to answer?" she shot back.

"Because you're avoiding mine! And, yes, I loved her! She was a good friend before she became my best mate's girlfriend and fiancee! What the hell kind of question is that?"

"Of course, you did." She had said it so clearly, so strangely, that now I was angry _and_ shocked. What had the twisted little brain of hers managed to get from that? Because I know her. I know Luna Lovegood - I _know_ her and I know how her mind works. She was jumping to some far-fetched conclusion, following a train of logic that I had no hope of understanding. The problem was what...and why.

"I didn't mean to have that come through the link." She looked more or less calm again, though there was something not quite right about it. "We were talking about the War, about the Creevey brothers, about Hannah Abbot's brother Alfie and more besides. It's hard not to become sentimental at parties like these."

Just spun on her heels and walked away.

No word, no thought, no...nothing.

I'd remained out on the balcony for a long time, even missing Malfoy's show-off proposal (but of course, he wouldn't know how to do something without flare if he'd been dared...). I'd waited for anything to happen. I'd left after congratulating 'Mione. If I was the kind of guy to go out and get completely drunk off my arse and start brawls, that night would have been it for me.

As it were, I managed to get half-way foxed before I left the party on firewhisky then passed out a few hours later after polishing off a handle of good ol' fashioned vodka Harry kept on hand in the pantry. Ron and the twins helped. Neville, that bloody bounder, had wisely taken himself off to bed early. God knows I would've turned violent eventually if he'd stayed.

I'd thought we'd once more skip backwards in time to the terrible week of no contact but Luna had surprised me. She'd done nothing of the sort. Even though Kit had destroyed her phone, she'd written something at least once or twice a day and sent me thoughts every now and then. But we couldn't just sit down and talk about it - I didn't know how to bring it up because I didn't even know what to ask. I had too many questions to be able to get my thoughts together and make her answer me truthfully. I guess at the top of the list was 'why'? Why had she asked about Lavender and what had my answer meant? Sure, I'd loved Lavender. _Of course, I'd loved her. _I missed her - I always will. She's the one person who had known Seamus as well as I had, and she'd made him happy, so how could I ever come to have anything _but_ love for her? But Luna should have known that.

Luna knew that already.

Which was why I was worried that I had made some ghastly mistake and misunderstood her point. She must have meant something else, or was really asking another question, and since I couldn't have read her mind I'd torn it for sure. But what had I torn? What wasn't I seeing? And why the hell wouldn't Nev tell me what they had talked about? He only shook his head and shrugged, as if that was a proper answer. He was lucky I didn't just haul off and punch him anyway to make myself feel better.

On the surface, things were almost the same. Beneath it, I felt like I was walking on eggshells.

Yet again, I'd done something that may or may not have offended her but she didn't give any indication. We talked about the same things as before. She still came over to the apartment to hang out with me and the boys, still hung out at the Burrow to watch us play Quidditch...she'd even taken to visiting my mum and siblings on weekends. Adie adored her, the twins thought she was great fun, and Naira had started including her when shopping for presents while on tour. The only thing was that people seemed to want to spend as much time with her as I did. Every time we were together, someone else (or a whole bunch of 'someone elses') was present.

I felt like our closeness was slipping away. I felt like I couldn't keep it from doing so.

_Absolutely amazing_, I sighed as I finished packing her clothes away. _Now what?_

She was leaving tomorrow.

We needed to talk - I needed to get her alone with me tonight.

She needed to tell me what was actually wrong instead of fobbing me off with little white lies.

And if she didn't want to, I was going to sit her down or tie her to a bed or-

"Bloody hell." I palmed my face and sat on the bed. "Now what?"

**oo**

Dinner at the Burrow that night was louder and more vivacious than usual. Everyone was present for it - the gang plus all the Weasleys minus Charlie, who had left for Romania for a few days - and everyone was eating and talking over each other and laughing. I couldn't get into it. All I could do was listen to the conversations, nod at appropriate times, then let my gaze continuously slide over to Luna. She hadn't said a damn thing of substance since she'd left the room all those hours ago. Now she was sitting there, smiling at something Ron was saying and I was getting more and more distracted by the minute.

"Please, as if you could manage to keep your broomstick angled downwards in a gale. Am I right, Dean?"

I shook my head and looked at Fred who was gazing at me rather expectantly. Lee was looking just as expectant. Neville just looked amused. I might have been distracted but I was _not_ distracted enough to agree to anything either of the two of them were talking about.

"Ah, what are we talking about right now?"

Fred snorted. "Gales? Broomsticks? Your current obsession with staring shamelessly at Luna?"

"W-what?"

"Give it up, mate," said Lee after heaving a sigh, "you might as well excuse yourself and snatch the girl up already. We could have been talking about dancing naked out on the green, for all the listening you were doing."

I looked from one to another in surprise.

"I was listening - you said 'as if you could manage to keep your broomstick dangled downwards in a gale'!"

"Close, but no cigar," scolded George. "Angled not dangled unless-"

"-your mind is in the gutter." Fred elbowed me in the side.

"Well, since he's been staring at Luna all night, who knows at this point?" added Lee.

"One word, one mistake!" I exclaimed. "That doesn't prove a damned thing except-"

"Oho, and now he's actually _yelling_," interrupted George. "Things not going well?"

"Need a little help winning her over?" asked Fred slyly. "Though you two seem to get on well more than half of the time."

"Well, I always say a little bit of the physical and smooth anything over."

"I don't need any help," I said through gritted teeth, "and I don't need any advice, but thanks for thinking of me."

"Oooh, defensive, isn't he?"

"He's a fool in love," said Lee with a mock blissful expression. "Aren't you, Dean?"

"Oh, shut up, already!"

I was going to haul back and wallop the next person who even so much as opened their mouths to _breathe_ so I abandoned the table altogether. I don't know why I didn't believe Ron when he'd said that the twins had never actually grown out of their habit of digging in and annoying the hell out of someone, but I was going to do my best to avoid Lee _and_ Fred & George tonight. Still, I couldn't quite get my eyes to stray from the blonde across the table. I wished I could either make a clean get away from the dinner or sit unnoticeable in a corner and watch her some more. Was it because she looked so much happier with them than I'd seen her look in the last few weeks?

Or was it much of summer?

I excused myself from dinner, and left the room altogether, heading outside while I thought. The night sky was awfully bright tonight.

_How long have I been overlooking this?_

I understood Ron completely. It's like you know something is concretely wrong but you know you would never get a straight answer if you asked the girl herself. But you don't really have any good ways of sleuthing out the answer for yourself (though Ron seemed to be on to something) so you hope for some sign, some accidentally dropped clue, so that your search isn't a complete shot in the dark. What I had was a problem Luna didn't think me capable of dealing with. Or maybe it was something that had nothing to do with me so she didn't think anything of speaking to me about. Or it was some new problem that wasn't about 'us' and more about 'her', so she _really_ didn't think of telling me.

It was a shot in the dark.

_Maybe I've already lost, _I thought as I tilted my head up to look up at the stars.

The stars never failed to make me feel like a small speck in the stream of life, never failed to awe me, but now they just made me rock back on my heels. They were much too small and much too bright to do anything but remind me of the dark.

* * *

"Where'd he go off to?"

"Thought I saw him head to the back."

"To leave or just to go outside?"

"I don't know-"

"Luna, are you listening to me?"

I slid my eyes back to Katie, who was managing marvelously to look both disapproving and amused. I'd been listening to all conversations all night for really only half an ear, or half a brain. Or both, more than likely. When Dean had pushed away from the table, I'd been watching. When he'd stopped and turned to look in my direction, I'd been fully aware. When he'd left, I'd both breathed easier and started to worry. I hadn't thought I was being so obvious but I must have, since the girls were on to me. Katie folded her arms over her chest while I did my darndest to look innocent. It didn't work.

"Fine, since I'm not interesting enough, how about you tell me what you're thinking about?"

"What who's thinking about?" interrupted Ginny on my other side. "Is Luna daydreaming again?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it daydreaming." Katie rolled her eyes. "Looks as if she'd checked right out of the conversation, really."

It was time for a getaway.

"Isn't there any more pumpkin juice?" I asked. "I ought to go get some from the kitchen. I'll be right back."

I slipped away from the table before any of them could so much as call me back, wondering what in heaven I was thinking by actually _throwing _myself into a situation where we'd be alone but he'd looked so pensive and I was so...well, at this point, it was safe to say that I was damned if I did and damned if I didn't. It wasn't as if my feelings were going to evaporate on their own any time soon.

_Still, _I worried, _what am I getting myself into? _

When I pushed the kitchen door that led out into the back, I saw him immediately. Outlined against the night with his hands in his pocket and his head tilted backwards...for some reason I couldn't really name, my eyes filled. His silhoutte just looked so...

_Lonely._

He looked lonely.

And I felt lonely.

I'd done everything I could to sweep my heart under the rug, and yet I'd still gotten greedy and sensitive and now we were both alone. An excellent muddle this was, really, and one that I didn't know how to get around. Why? Because there was _no_ getting around it. I didn't know how to circumvent myself and still exist, though standing here in the shadows and watching a man I couldn't have, I _really _wished I could.

I slowly withdrew and turned back to the kitchen.

_Better gone and alone than not. _

There wasn't anything I could do about it now.

**oo**

_Back to school._ I looked around me - at the hustle and bustle of parents and siblings and kids being carted off to Hogwarts, at the maximized jocularity of my friends and family, at the busy engines of the Hogwarts Express. _How quickly summer has flown by. _

Where had the time gone? Out the window, apparently, since here I was again with my trunk on the platform and my school robes haphazardly thrown over them. It was so very different from the last time I'd been here, a full two years ago with a fading bruise from our Ministry adventure and a new pair of Inoculars to bring with me on the train. I'd almost forgotten about those things, but Harry had dug them up yesterday afternoon in the chaos of my bedroom and left them on the bed with a note that told me not to forget them. Now, we were left with our goodbyes and Harry had pulled me aside after the twins had their dramatic turn.

"I know we haven't had much time to talk in the last few days," he said pulling me towards him for a one-armed hug. "Did you see the note?"

I nodded.

"I'll see you in a few weeks for Hermione and Draco's?"

I nodded, but tilted my head. All of these questions and were quite unlike the Boy Who'd Lived.

"Harry," I said slowly, "what is the matter?"

"That's what I'd like to ask you," he said truthfully. "But since you'll dilly dally around the answer all day, I don't intend to ask at all. Just owl me when you get home, all right?"

_Another one_, I thought as I blinked rather hard. _I'm apparently as transparent as glass at this point._

"Will do."

Before he could say anything, Mrs. Granger pulled me away to look for something or other around my trunk. I confess, I didn't pay very much attention, then the twins joined into to do something that I was rather sure involved sneaking a large patch of flyers and coupons into my robes when no one was looking, and before long I was standing with Ginny while we watched everyone else run around helter skelter around us. It was rather nice to be loved so obviously and cared about so deeply by so many people. Really, it was nice to have such a large family now (I caught Daddy's eye at one point while he was over talking to Angela Thomas, but all he did was smile faintly. He already knew how I felt).

Soon, the engine of the Hogwarts Express started its rhythmic purring.

"First time we've been separated in nearly a year," she said softly. I could tell she was getting ready for a rare moment of public emotion when she started repeatedly tucking hair behind her ears. "And second time we're returning to Hogwarts since the War. So much gone, so much changed."

"But it's better, you know?" whispered Ginny, as if the rhetorical question actually had an answer. She seemed to be staring at me when she said it, and for some reason, I became distinctly uncomfortable. Luckily Hermione simply asked her point-blank whether she was worried.

"Not worried exactly," she said on the edge of a sigh. "A little anxious to see Hogwarts again, see all the places that used to be filled with students, with teachers. It's going to be a difficult year. And as a Prefect?" She shrugged, her gaze finally turning to look at me and Luna. "I want to be a little more hands-on with the Gryffindors, more like an older person they can come talk to whenever they need advice or help or whatever."

I was surprised.

"Ginerva Weasley," murmured Hermione, "you would have been such a good older sister."

"But then again," I said thoughtfully, "it's probably a good thing Molly stopped at you. The Weasley clan is going to take over the wizarding world, no doubt."

We were interrupted by George, who was inclining his head towards the whistling train. It was time to go already.

"Last goodbyes all around, eh?" Ron said with hands in his trouser pockets. "Be good, you two."

I was engulfed by the entire Weasley clan before Daddy finally got his turn. He had a bit of a surprise for me.

"Keep this with you, sweetheart," he whispered as he pressed something into my hands. "If you need to come home, you do it right away, all right?"

I hadn't the faintest idea why I'd need to come home before Hermione's wedding but I was grateful all the same.

"I love you, Daddy."

"You're my darling," he said with a faint smile before he turned me around to face-

Dean.

Oh, God.

I yanked my walls in place and prepared my most unbothered face.

"I don't want you to leave like this."

He looked as if he hadn't actually had a decent night's sleep last night (coincidentally enough, neither had I), what with the bags underneath his eyes.

"Leave like what?"

"Leave_ me_." I winced on the inside, knowing that my mind would have fun painting his words in a way that might convince me that he might love me. Dean hadn't even said two words yet and I wanted to end this conversation. I braced myself for his next words. "Don't leave me like this. Or us, or _this_."

"Like what?" I breathed.

He cupped my face. "We've been tiptoeing around each other for days. I don't understand what I did. And I don't understand what you want. If you would just-"

"I want everything," I said softly.

He looked confused.

I wasn't surprised, just suddenly tired. "Never you mind."

"No," he said fiercely, "what do you mean?"

_I mean exactly what I say_, I thought wistfully. _It's as clear as day to the rest of the world._

"We don't have time for this," I said quickly. "Don't worry. It'll be better with me away."

There was a significant pause.

"Wait," he said slowly, the pad of his fingers rubbing my cheek and his gaze turning from confused to something way to intense for me to meet head on. "Do you _really _think so?"

"I have to go."

"Not before you explain what you meant."

"I have to go."

I tried to pull away. His hands only pulled my face closer.

"You don't mean that."

"I-"

"Look at me." He said this as if the proximity between us was enough for me to even angle my face away from his. As it were, I was trapped in his gaze. "I don't believe you. So look me in the eyes and tell me that you really think that we're better not together, and that you need to leave."

Let me say this for myself. I really _really_ tried to open my mouth and say something to save myself but heaven knows (and Dean knows) that I can't lie to save my soul, much less to save my heart, even though I'd been doing a splendid job this summer by side-stepping our problems. I really did intend to speak, to utter _anything_ that would be a denial.

Honestly.

But it didn't work. Not when I was this close. He looked triumphant. I did my utmost to minimize any facial expression.

"You can't, can you?"

He closed the distance between us.

"You can't say it."

"I need to go," I repeated finally. "The train is going to leave very soon and I really must finish saying goodbye to everyone."

He let go of me slowly but his facial expression was inscrutable.

Then before I could recover, Hermione.

"Oh, I love you two but we'll be seeing each other in less than a month, alright?" She was sniffling, and because she never sniffled, I felt as if I was going to tear up any second now. She continued on. "I mean, there _is_ the matter of my bachelorette's party, dress fittings and the wedding."

"Of that, you can be sure," came Gin's muffled voice.

"I'm not sure why I have the urge to cry," I said honestly, "but I'm fighting it. Owl us everyday?"

"Of course!" She pulled back finally and grinned at the two of us. "And maybe even three or four times a day, if Hermes lets me."

"And of course," smirked Draco at her side, "I'll be sending you both pin money and treat baskets, like the good friend I am."

It was so unexpected that I burst into laughter quite before I could help myself. In fact, I missed whatever it is he was saying and only caught the tail-end of Ginny's huffing.

"-quite enough annoying older brother figures in my life, thank you very much."

"Oh, I don't know," I snickered again. "I could do with a few more of those, myself."

"I've always known there was something to love about you, Luna," Draco said charmingly, before pulling me into another hug. His next words dropped down into a whisper. "Be safe, Miss Lovegood, and remember that since you're not a very good liar, you might as well rely on the friends and family you have. There's nothing harder than dealing with a problem on your own when you don't have to."

I was left speechless for the first time that day.

"All aboard the Hogwarts Express!"

With a last round of waves, Luna and Ginny hurried into a compartment together amidst the hustle and bustle of other Hogwarts students. Funnily enough, the crowd parted a little bit. I stared at that, wondering how being girlfriend and close friend of the great Harry Potter would affect the two's popularity this year. I suppose I wasn't the only one to notice.

"Owl me as soon as you get there, as soon as you're done with Prefect duties!" Hermione shouted as she waved vigorously.

We nodded, I think, and I looked towards Daddy again who nodded. Then the Hogwarts Express started moving forward.

"What was that?" asked Ginny curiously.

"What was what?"

"You and Dean? That didn't look like a very happy goodbye."

_I bet it didn't._

"He's just worried about us being apart for so long," I said easily.

Ginny arched her eyebrows.

"And you're not?"

"Not at all."

The redhead crossed her arms.

"I've never known you to lie so straightforwardly." I blinked, shocked. "But seeing as I need to be in the Prefects' car, I'll have to interrogate you later. Try to eat something - you barely ate dinner last night and I know for a fact that you didn't wake up early enough to get breakfast. We'll talk about this up at school."

I barely had time to say yay or nay, either way, before she left the compartment. I had no intention of talking about anything having to do with Dean for the next few weeks.

* * *

I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, much in the same way I had a few weeks ago. The Hogwarts Express should have arrived a few hours ago, and the girls were probably busy unpacking for school after the back-to-school feast in the Great Hall. Briefly, I worried about Adi (who had been stuck like glue to me in the last few days before she'd had to leave) but assured myself that Ginny and Luna would not only look out for her but take her under their wings. She already adored the ground Luna walked on, and I was certain Luna felt the same way.

It was one of very few things I was certain about when it came to Luna Lovegood.

_Already two o'clock in the morning and I can't sleep_, I thought as I rolled over again. The pillow wasn't comfortable enough, the sheets were soft enough, the bed seemed to have sprouted rocks between the springs and the mattress. _Should I-?_

It was worth a shot, wasn't it?

I felt instinctively for Luna in my mind, and the lack of a buzz made me think that she probably wasn't asleep.

_Luna?_

Silence. For a minute, I felt rather bad because if she hadn't answered then she _must_ have been sleeping but then something got into me that made me want to be contrary. Even though I knew I was being unreasonable, I tried again, pushing hard against her.

_Luna? I know you're there - talk to me._

**_Dean? _**I was surprised at how tired the voice was. **_Is something wrong? Are you alright?_**

Instantly, I felt like the world's biggest ass.

_Oh damn, did I wake you up? _I sputtered. _I thought you were awake since it felt as if you were but if you aren't-_

**_I am now. _**

Well, this was perfect. She was sleepy and I was guilty and I had no idea how to proceed. Good thing she couldn't let go of a question unanswered.

**_Nothing's the matter then? _**

_Well no...well, I mean yes, but nothing physically. _I stopped. And restarted. _What I mean to say is that I didn't mean to wake you up because there's nothing pressing that is wrong at this very minute so really...I'm so sorry, sweetheart._

**_That's all right. _**

Shit, now I really felt stupid. Should I press on with my misguided goal or should I just Still, if I was going to stick my foot in my mouth, I might as well go ahead and bite the bullet.

_...what happened to us?_

Another lovely angst-ridden, worry-inducing stretch of silence.

**_I don't know what you mean. _**

_Yes, you do, _I insisted._ Like I said today, we've been dodging each other for days. Things have been...different between us lately and I'm not sure why. I don't know what I'm doing when it comes to you, and I trust you enough to _tell _you that, whereas I don't know if you trust me enough to tell me anything._

**_It's not the same thing as last time. _**

_No, it's not. _That much I could acknowledge. _It's different, and I don't like it anymore than I did before. What's wrong? What is it that you don't think I'm capable of understanding?_

**_Dean,_** she thought gently, **_how did you imagine _****_this? Getting married and such?_**

Another distracting ploy.

_What?_

**_How did you think you'd end up married?_**

_I dunno, _I said slowly as I really thought about the question since, _I can't say that I've imagined it much. I mean, no one really thinks about these things when they're younger unless something life-changing, like war, comes along. I suppose I always thought that I'd eventually settle down with someone I loved and have my own place out in the country, like my parents do. _

**_Would she be some unmet stranger, or someone you already knew?_**

_Wouldn't matter either way, _I responded reasonably, _as long as we trusted and loved each other. It's not as if I had anyone in mind at the tender age of fourteen, you know._

I sensed (after I spoke, unfortunately) that this had been another sincerely important question. But I still couldn't imagine why it would be important...unless-

_How did you imagine this? I feel as if girls have been planning their weddings since they were able to walk._

_**I didn't.** _What she said was at odds with the regret in her voice._****__ In that respect, I'm way far removed from the rest of my gender. In fact, all I've ever wanted was Daddy and the Quibbler._

___And now? _I asked impulsively.

_****__And now? Now, like you said, that doesn't matter. We just have to make the best of things._

Okay, excuse me, but...what? What I said next was entirely motivated by pricked pride.

___Now what is _that_ supposed to mean? I'm a situation you have to make the best of?_

_****__No, the _entire_ situation is something that we need to make the best of us._

___We? I like us just the way we are, when you're not hiding things from me._

_...__**i****s this what you woke me up for, Dean? So that we could argue on our first night apart?**_

Shit. Me and my big bloody mouth.

___Not at-_

_****__You push and push and _push_ when you're really not even ready to hear the answer. _

_What does that even mean, Luna? __If I don't push, you don't give._

_****__And what if I don't want to give anymore? _

The question stopped me in my tracks.

_****__What if I don't want to give anymore? _

I was speechless.

_****__Answer me._

I couldn't answer when I had no idea where this had all come from to begin with.

**_I see. _**The thought was sent with more weight behind it than I'd ever heard from Luna before.

_Wait-_

She didn't wait. She was gone, already.

* * *

A whole eight hours of taking deep breaths, thinking deep thoughts, then taking more deep breaths. A whole eight hours without worrying about hiding my feelings from my closest friends. A whole eight hours without Dean Thomas by my side. I'd run an entire gamut of emotions but finally settled on relief. I'd been _relieved_ to be away from the drama and the stress and the toll of feeling too deeply too much of the time. I'd missed Hogwarts, I think, and I hadn't know it until I'd returned. It was still the same. That was reassuring. Especially since Gin and I appeared to have gain some ardent admirers. I confess, I was quite confused when a blushing Second Year tripped over his feet . It didn't occur to me that I'd inspire anything like _that_ upon my return. Gin had been so amused that she'd had to bury her laughter under the pretense of eating so the poor boy wouldn't feel any more embarassed than he already was. Minutes later she'd had to disappear off to prefect duties ages ago and I'd spent the evening getting reaquainted with the school grounds.

A whole eight hours of relief undone by Dean.

___We? I like us just the way we are, when you're not hiding things from me._

If I had known this is what he'd wanted to talk about, I would have kept silent. This is exactly why we'd been avoiding each other for the last few days. This, right here, was the reason I had sidestepped his questions and his probes and his desire to know everything about _everything_. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone?

_...is this what you woke me up for, Dean? So that we could argue on our first night apart?_

**___Not at-_**

He couldn't have just left it at that.

___You push and push and _push_ when you're really not even ready to hear the answer._

His shock was a slap in the face.

**___What does that even mean? Luna -_ i_f I don't push, you don't give._**

And wasn't that the truth. For the first time in the months since I'd realized that I was in love with him, I let myself tell the truth.

___And what if I don't want to give anymore? __What if I'm tired of giving? _

His silence spoke more than his words ever could.

___Answer me, _I whispered half-heartedly.

I already knew what it meant.

He might care about me, true, but he didn't love me.

He might give me more than he's ever given any other, but he didn't love me.

Well, it wasn't anything I didn't already suspect.

But it didn't mean that my heart wasn't breaking all over again.

_I see._

Because, really, what else was there to say after such a ringing denial? I cut him off, and cut him out, then let a fresh bout of tears fall.

**oo**

"Luna, you're awfully quiet this morning." Ginny ducked her head into my line of sight, then pushed my bowl towards me. "And you're not eating, and you're eyes are puffy. What's going on?"

I waved away the pitcher of milk she offered, then picked up my spoon and captured a bit of porridge. When I looked up, she was giving me a meaningful look that was mean to be read as 'Eat that. All of it." - I slid the spoon into my mouth. Apparently, it did not appease her.

"Luna, what _exactly _has been going on? I suspect Dean has much to do with it."

She didn't touch her own food. It reminded me that I needed to check on Daddy today.

"What classes do you have today?" I said by the way of an answer. "I don't think Transfiguration is going to begin today."

She blinked. "Why are you-"

Her schedule was on the table so I slid it on over to me and started to overlook it, forgetting my porridge altogether.

"Let me just look at this. See, first we have-"

"Luna." She covered the hand holding the schedule with one of her own, the gentleness of the movement at odds with the hardness of her gaze. _Why, oh why, did I want good friends again?_ I thought to myself. I wanted to avoid this and to wallow in pity but she clearly was not going to allow me the privilege. "Luna, stop it. _Talk_ to me! What's happening here - what's going on with you?"

I covered her hand with my own, and attempted another smile, which I was marginally more sure had succeeded.

"We're doing the normal thing and fighting at the moment. It's nothing for you to worry about."

She arched her eyebrow in a way that said just the opposite, but held her tongue. For that, I was grateful.

"The normal thing?"

Oops, I'd forgotten her last name was _Weasley_. She wasn't going to let go of this quite as easily.

"Isn't that what we're supposed to do?" I teased.

"Perhaps Ron & Padma, or 'Mione & Draco, but not you and Dean," Gin snorted. "It's like the world is on its head."

"It's enough to make you believe, isn't it?" I meant, believe in oddities. I wasn't sure if she understood. "In everything anyway."

"I'm sure I wouldn't know."

I smiled at that.

It was her usual response to anything I said that she hadn't understood completely.

"He's in love with you, you know." I stopped moving. "Luna, you are one of the most fearless people I know, and that includes the Savior of the World. You're also one of the most insightful. This is why it's so strange to see you shaken up over this. You remember that conversation we all had at the beginning of summer? At Flores-cue's, right when we talked about the boys. You didn't think love had passed you by because you didn't really believe in it for yourself. Dean is so clearly far gone over you and you must feel the same way, to care so badly."

She took both of my hands in hers.

"Try not to get lost as I lay out this logic." Gin grinned. "Think about it. Who inspired that magnificent bout of rage about a month ago? Only you can get him angry enough to piss off every one of his acquaintances. The eternal 'good ol' boy' charm was gone - none of us could stand him any longer than a minute! And when you two finally returned to speaking terms it was like having a personal sun in the room."

She grinned even more widely while I listened to her silently.

"Luna, you _move _him. You're worried about something that is already yours. He's in love with you. It's not his fault that he's male, and finds everything difficult to put into words, though he does _much_ better than most of the boys."

She didn't really understand the situation. She hadn't spent days crying over the uselessness of loving someone who didn't have enough room for it. She hadn't found that recording of Lavender under his pillow, nor had she heard it. She hadn't asked Dean straight out about his feelings for the girl long gone and received the answer she'd feared. She didn't know what it was like to hear the silence that indicated a lack of loving, and she wouldn't ever I could offer myself up

"He's in love with you."

I shook my head slowly.

_He really isn't._

"He is not."

"He's in love with you," she said slowly.

_Not in the least._

"He really isn't."

"He loves you."

"Of that I have no doubt," I said sadly, "even if it's not the way I would like him to."

"Clearly, I'm not doing a good job convincing you so you won't believe it from me." Gin sighed and squeezed my hands once more before letting go. "Let's head to class."

"I have to run back very quickly." Even before the words were out of my mouth, I knew I was on the brink of doing something highly illegal. Something that might certainly get me suspended, at the very least. "I've already forgotten to bring the text."

"See you there?" she asked as she stood.

I nodded.

Ten minutes later, I was wondering why everyone found it so difficult to get past the Whomping Willow. Honestly, all I'd needed to do was move out of the way of the branches then crawl a few feet. It was a simple orchestrating of movement. I crawled the rest of the way through the manhole, landed on my feet, and then worked the rest of the way up from the attic. If anyone found it even the slightest bit strange when I suddenly apparated unto Main Street, there was no indication. I took a deep breath, and stuck my wand out.

"London proper, please."

* * *

_What in God's name happened last night?_

Well, it couldn't even properly be called 'last night' since it wasn't much more than seven hours ago. But it was the one question that I'd been asking myself in the hours since. My reaction was a flashback to a month ago – couldn't sleep a damned bit. I just rolled around my bed like a big lump of irritated nothing, and wondered what on earth I'd done to make her _say_ something like that to me.

"What if I'm tired of giving? What if I don't want to give anymore?"

She couldn't say that and pull away from me, just like that. She couldn't just _do_ that and- and-

_Not explain herself!_

I'd thought that I was a good friend before all this began – now, I wasn't sure I was even cutting it as a mere acquaintance. Being with Luna had turned into an exercise into how to get into as much trouble as possible with a female. Our relationship was like a fucking _landmine _- every two steps, I did something that made her pull away, or back out, or say things that sounded an awful lot like she was ending our relationship. An awful _bloody_ lot like it. And I was tired of being the last to know what the hell was going on in that silly little brain of hers.

I was going to get myself up to Hogwarts and force her to tell me what she was talking about.

There was a knock at the door.

"I'm off to practice, mate." Harry and Ron, presumably. "Nevill left much earlier. Cub was sleeping out in the living room so we're bringing her to you in a minute."

"Fine!"

A minute later, Ron propped the door open so Harry could bring everyone's favorite housemate inside. Cub was still pretty small, but she was beginning to remain awake for more than half the day. Still, it would be way too much to ask that she be conscious and moving at only nine o'clock in the morning. As was usually the case, Ron and Harry made a fuss over leaving her (complete with kissing noises, fur nuzzling, and _more_ kissing noises) before finally dropping Cub unto the bed and getting off to practice.

"Cub, I need you to be a mind-reader." I stroked her fur while she snuffled, then resettled into sleep. "I need you to look into Luna's head and tell me everything she's thinking."

_Because I have no idea._

"Because I hate fighting with her, but more than that I hate missing her."

_Because I'm always a step behind._

It was funny that Cub was shedding even in her sleep.

"Because I'm tired of apologizing for something that I'm not sure I'm doing, when she won't let me know either way."

_Because I want her to be able to say anything to me, if she wants._

"And because I can't lose her."

Cub didn't have much more than gentle snoring in the way of an answer, which was probably a good thing since I didn't have any more questions left to ask.

**oo**

I registered the ringing of my cell-phone before I fully realized that I was fumbling for it. I must have fallen asleep for the world to be so damned blurry and I almost crushed Cub in my attempt to reach over the side of the bed.

"Hello?"

"It's me, mate." Harry, who sounded inordinately worried. "Don't know how to say this – urgent message from Ginny. Luna's gone."

The bottom dropped out of my stomach.

"What?"

"Luna's not at Hogwarts."

"How?"

I asked this question but I actually didn't register his answer. Instead, I was already up and pulling a tee-shirt on as I hit speakerphone. My mind was reaching for hers but I got a block every single time.

_Luna? _

Nothing. It was only a little past noon, she should have been up. I tried again.

_Luna? Sweetheart, if you can hear me, I really just need you to say something. Are you here?_

Still nothing. All the irritation I'd felt before was melting away into stark fear.

_Luna? Please answer me!_

"Shit, shit, shit," I muttered and looked wildly around the room. I needed my jacket- no, I needed my wand and the flat keys- yes, I needed to get them all and get out of here. I needed- "Shit."

I needed to listen to the phone.

By the time it occurred to me to actually _listen_ to Harry, he was almost finished.

"-you come to the Burrow. Ron is calling 'Mione and Drake, right now, and Ginny is up at school trying to figure out what in the hell is happening. She hasn't gone to any of the Heads of Houses yet."

I grabbed the keys to the house and then tucked Cub under my arm.

"You still there, mate?"

I tried again to reach her.

_Luna, please answer me._

I might as well have been talking to a brick wall for all the good it did me.

"Here," I said roughly. "I'm bringing Cub, Ill be at the Burrow in a few. Does Mrs. Weasley know?"

"Not yet."

"Let me call my mum first."

I hung up without waiting for a solid response, then dialed my mother with alacrity. When she picked up, I told her as quickly and succinctly as possible all that had come to past. I didn't have any time for a preamble, just plunged straight into it.

"I'm sure no harm has come to her," she reassured me in the calm way that only a mother can. "You would know if it had."

_If she was conscious, that is,_ I thought grimly. I knew full well that if anything had happened to her, it would have been much easier to cause less of an alarm by drugging her or simply incapacitating her with a simple spell. She wouldn't have had _time_ to feel fear, and as long as she was unconscious, she wouldn't. I said none of this to my mother, whom I didn't want to worry.

"I'll be at the Burrow as soon as I can."

With a quickness that I hadn't known I was capable with, I snatched my wand up and tossed Floo powder into the fire.

If anyone had done _anything_…anything at all-

I was starting to understand the battle rage that had taken ahold of Draco Malfoy that day so many weeks ago. It had been pretty damned impossible to get him off that bloke, and I could completely understand him. If anyone had done _anything _at all to Luna, if even a single hair on her head at been harmed, if she'd shed a tear, if she'd- Jesus, it was enough to make me see red. My worry and fear was tangling with a fury so intense that I couldn't speak for a moment. How much greater would my response, me who hadn't walked in without a clue to see my girlfriend crumpled on the floor, me who had _warning_ and _time_ to build on this first anger?

Whoever the bloody fuck this person was, there wasn't going to be a bit of him left when I was done.

A snap and crackle in the fire shook me out of the red-hazed reverie and I tossed another handful of Floo powder into the fireplace. I propped Cub up.

"The Burrow."

* * *

Daddy was serenely unsurprised, which I myself had counted on. Seeing as he had been the one to provide me with the purse of coin that would pay for my trip back home, I suspected my Daddy knew far more than he let on about what went on between Dean and I. A letter was waiting for me on the doorstep of my home in Daddy's messy hand, indicating that there were leftovers from the farewell party two nights ago that Molly Weasley had sent over.

"Oh, Daddy," I said with a smile that faded away too soon.

I had a problem on my hands.

Ginny had named me the most fearless person she knew but I wasn't. I felt like I had no courage whatsoever, and this desperate flight away from school proved it. My mental walls were up so high that nothing could get in. I couldn't put into the words what had motivated me to come back home, except to say that I felt that I had to. I couldn't be at Hogwarts but I couldn't deal with Dean.

_Isn't that the very definition of a coward?_ I thought wryly as I slowly headed up the stairs. _Isn't that exactly what a coward is?_

I didn't have enough strength to be with someone who wasn't in love with me but I couldn't find a way to keep myself from hurting him as I tried to sort it out. What I'd said last night, I'd meant but not every passing thought needed to be voiced. I'd lashed out because I'd been tired, and he'd been pushing me so hard for a reason.

_It's an addiction now…this pain._

And maybe it was. Maybe I kept saying these things and doing these things that hurt us both because then at least I'd have proof he cared. Except last night, he was shocked. Totally and completely shocked beyond belief, like he couldn't believe that I would say anything like that. It hadn't felt like hurt. It had just felt like surprise.

It was worse because it didn't hurt him at all.

I pushed my suite door open, shedding clothing as I went. When I finally climbed into bed, I felt very cold. I felt as if some sort of frigidness was setting into my bones. I blinked and lit the fireplace with wandless magic and burrowed under my sheets. I was finally running. I was mature enough to admit that I was running from him and running from myself.

I had a problem on my hands, and I wasn't quite sure what to do about it.

My cellphone, left behind because Hogwarts would destroy it, was still sitting turned off on my dressing table. I considered turning it on again, but quickly discarded that idea when I figured that it was simply too much of a bother. I recognized (quite distantly, I might add) that a lot of it came from the fact thatit was simply too much of a bother. I recognized (quite distantly, I might add) that a lot of it came from the fact that Ginny might have eventually figured out that I was no longer at school, and told Harry mind to mind. Seeing as it _was_ a full hour and a half later and she _was _quite clever, she would eventually credit the idea of me leaving Hogwarts on my own.

I don't hesitate to say that I am one of the most mature people I know, but today, I just didn't feel like being responsible.

What I did want to do was sleep.

And so I did just that.

**oo**

I woke up from a dream in which I chased tropical speaking magpies through a field of poppies with an army of angry pixies behind me. Suffice to say, I was significantly confused when I woke up and it took me a few minutes to recognize that I was in my own bed in my own house in the country. It took another few minutes for me to fight a sudden and overwhelming urge to cry, and another moment to completely conquer it.

That was another thing about being in love that I couldn't get used to.

I'd slept a whole six hours to make up for the sleeplessness of last night and it was already late afternoon. I'd had a visitor as well – Kit was sprawled out on the pillow next to me, looking as if whatever feline dream he was caught up in might have included sleeping itself. I smiled briefly and stroked his fur before stroking his fur reminded me of Cub which inevitably reminded me of Dean.

Whom I didn't want to think about.

When I finally pulled myself out of bed and padded downstairs, I was surprised to see Daddy back early from work and sitting in the living room. He rarely paused long enough to spend time out here during deadline week. He merely smiled when he looked up at me.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Familiar places help clear the mind," he replied softly.

"But they don't dispel fear, Daddy."

I did something I hadn't done in a very long time, since I was very little. I sat down at his feet and leaned against his chair.

"No," he said thoughtfully somewhere above me. The familiarity of his heavy hand on my head was comforting. "But perhaps all you need is the right place to conquer that fear, child."

"I don't know what to do, Daddy."

He stroked my head without saying anything for a long time.

"All I can offer you is the same advice as before – honesty is the strongest ally in a relationship."

I took a minute to absorb that, and to remember that Daddy had really pushed for honesty back then. My response had been a healthy dose of trepidation (was I an idiot, to tell Dean my feelings when I already knew about Lavender?). I knew without a doubt that if I were to say as much this time, Daddy would disagree. It had already come to a head – fear was rather useless when you'd already showed most of your hand.

Daddy, obviously, could read my mind.

"Either way," he said gently, "two people are involved rather than one now. He came over yesterday after you and Ginerva left, to help me with the wand experiment. It was the quietest I have ever seen him."

My heart constricted.

"I wasn't at all surprised when the Ministry made their announcement, but I was surprised when you told me who they chose. But Dean is a good lad, an honest one. He is respectful, polite, funny with that overt sense of humor when he wants to be. Even more than that, I've seen how he and the rest of them have changed you. Him, even more than the rest."

Daddy stroked my hair while I blinked rather rapidly.

"And you've changed him as well. Although your mother and I didn't have such a tumultuous path, we were friends first too. Trust in what you had before, and what you have now, and remember my plea for honesty."

I'm sure Ginny would have declared that half the world could have heard the sigh I let loose.

"You might also want to remember how he feels about you in the next few hours."

I turned to see that my father looked rather grave.

"Why?"

"Because from what I gather, a veritable crowd gathered at Molly's since they were worried."

_Oh, dear._

It was the one thing I hadn't counted on.

"How...how bad was it?" I asked meekly.

"Very. I sent an owl a few minutes ago to the Burrow...I imagine the lot of them will be here any moment to make sure you're fine, my dear."

* * *

Mum was completely correct.

I'd tried to contact Luna about a billion times every hour since we'd found out she was missing, since Ginny had finally gone to the Head of Ravenclaw House with her suspicion, since the lots of us had gathered together at the Burrow to drown in fear and anxiety and worry, _before_ I'd figured out that my mother was right. Something had changed in the quality of the block that she'd put up in her mind - something almost insubstantial, deceptively still, something that screamed 'I'm bloody well awake and I don't want to talk to you'. It wasn't as if my thoughts were hitting a dead end. It was more like they were _going through_, being absorbed, but without the intention of reply. I'd figured out that Luna Lovegood was alive and well.

I didn't have enough space in my mind that _wasn't_ occupied by fury to pay much attention to what the hell was happening around me. I strode about the place, fully aware of how angry I looked and helpless to do anything about it.

"What on earth could she be doing?" I heard Harry say somewhere behind me. "I swear I'm going to shake her myself when I find her."

_Luna. _I shot the word like a bullet, feeling it reverberate along the mental link then disappear like a Bludger hit far out of sight. _Luna Lovegood, if you can hear me, I hope that you've found a very good hiding place._

I honestly didn't know what I was going to do if I found her.

I turned, legs still working, heart still churning. The rest of the gang were murmuring something behind me that I couldn't really pay attention to since my mind kept returning to the problem of Luna Lovegood. She was absolutely insane. She was _nuts_. This, right here, was why they called her that awful hurtful name at school. She didn't _think_ with her head. She was so far gone that she didn't remember that there were people who loved her and worried about her and would tear down the countryside if anything happened to her.

She couldn't have even sent a note? I don't bloody well know what she thought with anymore. I was going to break that pretty little-

An owl at the window, dear Mrs. Weasley (who was sympathetic to my plight) had brought in the letter tied to the owl and handed to me. I barely glanced at the handwriting on the surface, Mr. Lovegood's to be sure, before I flipped it open.

_Dean,_

_She returned home sometime in the early hours of this morning, and she's been here ever since._

That was it.

The shortness of the letter, although it wasn't her Dad's fault, changed my anger into something close to fury. I literally had to gather my thoughts and school my voice before I opened my mouth to speak.

I was going to kill her.

I was going to murder her.

I was going to storm into that house across the way and simply obliterate her.

How _dare_ she leave school? How _dare_ she leave school without telling anyone? How _dare_ she leave school premises on her own, without letting a single person know what she was about? How _dare_ she return home and _keep silent_?

It was unforgivable.

It was inexcusable.

And she was going to answer with me, if I had to blow her bedroom door to smithereens and drag her out to-

_Calm, _I thought to myself. _Calm. I am taking a deep breath and thinking calm only semi-violent thoughts, and holding unto myself._

I finally regained the ability to speak and looked up.

"Well," I announced carefully to the room at large, "we can all quit worrying now. This letter from her Dad says that she's at home-"

"At home?" 'Mione looked like she was near to fainting, standing with the older women.

"When school has started?" Mrs. Weasley and my mum continued. "And she couldn't let any of us know?"

Neville murmured something colorful behind me, but I spoke over everyone calmly enough.

"And she's safe and sound but she won't be that way for long."

I was going to kill her. To _kill_ her.

It was all I could think as I disapparated from the house and appeared on the front lawn of the Lovegood Place. It was like the sight of the house set me off. Before I could control myself I was yelling at the top of my lungs and running up the steps to the front door. Thankfully, the wards were down.

"Luna! If you don't get yourself down here this _very_ instant-"

I had the good sense to feel mortified for about half a moment before the fury returned full force.

"Sir, where might I be able to find your lovely daughter?"

I think he wisely chose to ignore my sarcasm and moved back to motion me inside. I made to stride past him when he laid a heavy hand on my shoulder.

"Remember that there are two sides to this story, son." His sky blue eyes, so much like Luna's, were clear and concerned. "Have a care with her _and_ yourself."

If I was less blinded by my anger, I would have been able to see what he meant. As it was, I simply headed up the stairs and found myself taking it out on her door.

"Luna."

There was a small sound, something unidentifiable, behind the door. So the little vixen was _there_, was she?

"Get out here," I said calmly, "before I break this door down. I am holding on to the_ last _bit of my self-control by the thinnest string imaginable. I _will_ break this door down if you don't get out here."

Silence.

That poor string containing my self-control was thinning.

"Because I like to repeat myself, Luna, I'm going to go ahead and tell you that I mean it when I say it. Move away from the door."

A shuffling and then the sound of quick steps and a door slamming shut.

The string snapped.

All I could think about was cornering her and forcing an answer out of her. Forgetting that I was a wizard, I simply put my back into it and laid the door flat out in her Sunroom. Before the dust could clear from the destroyed door, I was pounding on the door of her bedroom.

"Don't you _dare_ run from me!" I slammed my fists against the door - once, twice, three times. "Luna, don't you _dare_ run from this! You've been running all week, all bloody last month! What on _earth_ possessed you to leave the safety of Hogwarts and go traversing across London **_on your own_** to come back home?"

"I was fine," said her quiet voice from through the door.

It set me to rattling the doorknob.

"FOR ALL WE KNEW, YOU WERE KIDNAPPED OR WORSE!"

There was a shocked air to the silence that came from the other side. I couldn't find a way to give a damn.

"Luna Lovegood, did you have **_any idea _**what you were about when you left? You had all the time in the world today to _send a bloody letter_! To anyone!" I shouted. "Even if you didn't want to talk to me, even if you couldn't find the common **_courtesy _**to tell your betrothed where you'd gone traipsing off to, you could have sent _a letter _to _ANYONE _besides me! Do you have _any **bloody **idea how Mrs. Weasley and my mother felt?_ Can you even take a minute to think about _anyone besides yourself_ and wonder how we panicked? When I finally saw Harry and Nev after Harry told me the news, they were white with worry!"

I couldn't take a deep enough breath to go on though I did hear some drastic intake of breath that made me feel viciously righteous.

"Hermione and Ron were just as frantic! Draco Malfoy came out to offer support, and his mates were sending owls day in and day out! The twins closed up shop early, Percy and Mr. Weasley tried to get off work to come back to the house. And you expect me to _believe_, for even a **_moment_**, that whatever motivated you to do something as _idiotic _and _stupid_ and _life-threatening_ as this **_justifies your actions_**?"

There was another long gap of sound.

"I think you've made your feelings about my scant intelligence well-known."

Anyone else might have taken that tone for dry flippantness but I had known Luna too long.

She was on the edge of what sounded like tears. It was unfortunate that it only motivated me to say more.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is it only _now_ that you feel bad about what you did? Good," I snarled viciously, "good, you take a good look at what it is you're feeling and memorize it. You _hold _that pain near and dear to your heart and learn what it is that the rest of us felt like today. Perhaps if you _knew_ what pain was, you'd be able to keep yourself from inflicting it on others, eh? Maybe if you took a good fucking **_look _**you would know why it is I'm out here after destroying the door to your personal rooms and banging on this one currently. Maybe you would stop being so goddamned selfish!"

"I don't want to do this with you." Her voice was so small, so thin, that I almost couldn't hear her. "I don't want to do this now."

I laughed, shocking even myself by how bloody inappropriate the action was, then leaned against the door to speak lowly into the wood.

"Really?" I asked. "Really? You don't want to do this right **_now_**? Well then, sweetheart, you go right ahead and let me know when you **_do _**want to do this. I'll just sit back on my arse and wait for you to make the executive decision, eh? Luna Lovegood, when might you be available to do this? When do you want to sit down and really hash out our differences? When would you like to _make the time _to tell me why you've been pushing me away for the last half of the summer, or lying to my face about how you really feel? When, exactly, _do you _propose having the time to do all that? Maybe you'll just go ahead and pencil me in on your schedule in the next week or so, somewhere between the blocks in which you make time to see **_everyone else _**or when you hide out at The Quibbler?"

By this time, I was shouting again.

"I mean, come on, darling, it's not as if I'm one of your oldest friends, is it? It's not as if we haven't been to hell and back together in the last year? It's not as if we've faced down death together, faced down _war _together, and relied on each other all the way through, right? It's not as if I've been anything less than open and honest with you about everything from small stuff to big stuff? It's not as if I feel as if I haven't told you that you're one of the most _important_ people in my life, like I worry about you until I can see you again? It's not as if I have any right to know what's going on with you, or to think about you when you're not around, or to feel anxious when you pull away from me, correct? It's not like I can go on like this, walking the edge of a knife that I'm not even aware about because you _won't tell me _what the issue is? Right, sweetheart? _It's not as if I deserve to have a firm place in your life, right?_"

I could hear her, I could _feel_ her - the walls were thinning through the link - and she felt like devastation. It was _exactly_ the way I wanted her to feel.

"Open the door, Luna. Open it and open it now. _Now._"

**_I can't do that._**

"Why?" I banged on the door again. "Why can't you?"

_**Because, **_she whispered thinly through the link.

"What the hell kind of reason is that, Luna? What on earth can't you say to me? When have I ever been anything less than truthful with you, or considerate of you? When have I ever stopped proving that I value your opinion, that I care about what you have to _say? _I have been as _understanding_ as I possibly can, as bloody well _accomodating_ of all of this! Get out here and _explain_ yourself!"

_**I can't.**_

"You can't or you won't?" I yelled. "Can't or won't are _two different things_, and you sure as hell are proving the differences. Open the door, Luna!"

I heard her sob.

**_I don't know what you want. _**

She was crying and she _still _wouldn't let me in - the straw that broke the camel's back.

"STOP RUNNING FROM THIS!" I exploded at the top of lungs. "GET OUT HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU DID AND FUCKING TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THAT LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS! I HAVE NEVER, IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, IN OUR _ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP _EVER THOUGHT OF YOU AS A COWARD! BECAUSE YOU ARE _NOT _A COWARD, AND I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS FROM YOU! LUNA, OPEN THIS DOOR AND TELL ME WHAT IS HAPPENING!"

Mr. Lovegood's voice fell thoughtfully into the silence that followed.

"Unfortunately, son, I don't think she's coming out anytime soon."

I whirled around to see him looking kind and observant, and to see Harry, Ron, Neville looking thoroughly shocked. I didn't give a damn. I shoved hard against the walls in her mind, still crumbling, and felt the depths of her despair.

"Get her out of there, sir," I growled.

He shook his head.

"It's her choice."

"Dean-" Nev tried to interrupt.

"It is _not_ her choice!" I yelled. "It can't be!"

"Why not?"

The answer - _she can't leave me like this, how can she do this to me, I can't take it _- was too private to share, not that I hadn't aired out all of our relationship problems already so I stared her father down and withdrew from her space in my head. When he looked as if he wasn't very much inclined to speak again, I counted slowly to twenty in my head. How embarassing to have lost myself, to still be losing myself, to have disrespected my elder.

I needed to leave this place.

"Sorry about the door and...everything else." I yanked out my wand and whispered 'Reparo' to return the door to its old state, propped open.

I stared at the bedroom door behind me, still barricaded, then I listened for anything, _anything at all, _any single thread of sound from the other side. I heard nothing.

It was suddenly too much.

I couldn't stand to look at anyone so I pushed passed them all to leave Luna Lovegood behind.


	14. Reaching

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: So close to the ending, two chapters or so? Listened to Empty Streets by Late Night Alumni, all through Dean's stuff. Abrupt ending, but meant to be so, to transition into the next story. I find that even with creative writing, I can never adequately pull together the end of a story...and as the end draws near, I look towards the next installment ^_^ so distraction play its part as well. Anyway. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 14 - Reaching

_It would help an awful lot of you all simply listened to me before insisting on doing something so foolish! - Ginny to the group, after a Sixth Year Prank gone wrong._

* * *

Is it any wonder that yet _another_ sleepless night passed into morning?

I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of hearing Dean that irate, that blessedly loud, or that...vicious. He hadn't held any punches back yesterday - at _all_. Though he still seemed blind to my feelings, he'd been terribly good at circling in on my shortcomings and airing them out for the entire world to hear. I would have been better able to respond had I not regressed to the age of about six - shocked beyond belief behind the safety of my bedroom door. If he'd sought to prick me hard enough into coming out, he'd done the exact opposite. If he'd thought he was going to make me angry, he'd done much more.

I hadn't been able to take it without crying which, of course, he'd ended up hearing anyway.

I couldn't have opened the door. Not because he was beyond furious - I couldn't imagine all that pent up rage would ever have turned against me - but because the simple act of opening the door had suddenly taken on a whole lot more meaning. I couldn't open the door because I was terrified. If I opened the door, I would tell him...I knew that as surely as I knew that my hair was blonde and the sky was blue. If I opened the door, I would open my mouth and I would tell him the truth and give him exactly what he asked for. And I, for one, was just not ready to let my heart bleed on my sleeves. Not after Hermione's debutante ball, not after our goodbye on Platform 9 and 1/2, not after the conversation we'd had my first night back at Hogwarts, and certainly not with him breaking the sound barrier on the other side of the door. If I was going to be a fool, let me at least be a fool who protected herself until the very end.

Let me have my pride, at the very least.

Still...

_I can't do that_, I'd tried to say to him. When he'd asked why, all I could give him was the juvenile response 'because'.

"What the hell kind of reason is that, Luna?" The awful beating of his fists against the door had made me pull away from the door to cry quietly. "What on earth can't you say to me? When have I ever been anything less than truthful with you, or considerate of you? When have I ever stopped proving that I value your opinion, that I care about what you have to _say? _I have been as _understanding_ as I possibly can, as bloody well _accomodating_ of all of this! Get out here and _explain_ yourself!"

I really just hadn't been able to do that.

"You can't or you won't?" Dean had yelled. "Can't or won't are _two different things_, and you sure as hell are proving the differences. Open the door, Luna!"

"STOP RUNNING FROM THIS!" The explosion had sent me scuttling back to huddle at the foot of my bed. "GET OUT HERE AND EXPLAIN YOURSELF AND EXPLAIN WHY YOU DID AND FUCKING TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN THAT LITTLE BRAIN OF YOURS! I HAVE NEVER, IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, IN OUR _ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP _EVER THOUGHT OF YOU AS A COWARD! BECAUSE YOU ARE _NOT _A COWARD, AND I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS FROM YOU! LUNA, OPEN THIS DOOR AND TELL ME WHAT IS HAPPENING!"

After that, I'd crawled back into the bed and tried to stop the sound of his voice in my head. I could hear him yelling at Daddy, then he said something and a crack sounded. I'd had no idea what in heaven's name was happening outside, but not a single thing on this earth could have gotten me into going to check. I cried like it was the first time, like the shock of it was still brand new, like I hadn't cried like this ever before.

And after that, I slept the sleep of the mentally exhausted.

"Molly brought over breakfast." It was only ten in the morning, and Daddy should have been at work by now, but he'd remained behind just a little longer to see me when I'd finally unlocked my door. I'd done so only after sending off my profuse apologies to Ginny, Professor Flitwick. "And Hermione said she would stop by sometime this morning."

"Thank you, Daddy."

"For what?"

I sent him a wobbly smile and he brushed the hair away from my face without comment.

"I'll see you when I return."

When he left, I curled into my window-seat once more. There were three letters - Ginny, Hannah, and Cho were quite desperately angry at me - but a strange kind of fatigue had set in with the slow rain. The sky was grey, a very pretty dark shade that reminded me not a little of the smoke from train chimneys. This of course led me to think of Kit. Which led me to think of Dean.

Which (the thinking, I mean) was soon interrupted.

"Luna?"

"Hermione?" I was so startled that I nearly twisted my neck in an effort to get her in my sights. "Hermione?"

"Oh, Luna."

She hugged me tightly and, for some reason I could not name, I broke with long years of traditional restraint and buried my face into her shoulders. When I finally pulled back, she was offering me a half-smile.

"It's a good thing I wasn't planning on coming here to berate you." She ran a hand through my hair while I sighed.

"Ah, yesterday...I'm extremely sorry about that." I truly was - Dean had been right to call me selfish, when I'd had no thought for how those I loved the most would react. "I should have at least let Ginny know, and I sent an owl off this morning to apologize."

She bumped me over on the window seat, and dropped lightly. We sat in companionable silence for a moment, while I thought about all the words I wanted to say but never expressed.

"I-" I finally said. "I'm not sure what I want." I looked at Hermione, her brown eyes warm and encouraging. "And I wish I hadn't needed to leave to figure it out. It's possibly the most irresponsible thing I've ever done, right?"

"It was." She had the look of a strict school marm when she said it. "Do you know how worried we were? The Burrow was full of people...Fred and George and Lee closed shop early and came right home. Bill, Fleur, Percy, Penelope sent owls and called in, while Blaise and Theo were constantly on the line. Not to mention Mrs. Weasley was on the verge of tears with Dean's mum."

All of this I'd gathered later from Daddy.

"Heavens but I really do need to apologize to everyone. I didn't even think about the consequences." I sighed, knowing this was her way of reprimanding me. "This is your way of berating me, isn't it?"

"It's nothing compared to what the rest of them are going to do to you," she said with a smile, "if that makes you feel better. Now, tell me what led to this startling chain of events. It was Dean, wasn't it?"

Direct as ever, and just as blunt.

"Is there nothing else that would make me leave school?"

She laughed.

"Isn't it always about Dean?"

"It really is. "I'm in love with him."

She looked rather impatient at that statement. "I know. And you think he doesn't."

I did an awkward bit of half-nodding, half-shaking.

"Luna," she said firmly, "this is the kind of thing that Dean has to figure out on his own. We know his past with romance, don't we? Yes, he liked Lavender sometime in the past, other than her there's been no others of significance."

I was not convinced.

"Oh come on!" she scoffed. "You cannot believe the bull that he still likes her. If you do, you're giving him a lot less credit than he deserves. Haven't you two always been truthful about things?"

"No, I know that," I murmured softly, "I know that. It's just how does he not see it, how I feel?"

I couldn't understand him. But I understood myself even less.

What I wanted was for him to recognize my feelings because I was far too scared to open my own mouth and tell him myself. It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, because I was waiting for him to see what I could not say. And I really just couldn't believe that he had not a suspicion, not a single..._inkling _as to why I was acting the way I was and what had motivated me to do what I did. Instead, he'd met me with accusations couched so...strangely...that I couldn't deny them. It would have been terrible if he'd just called me selfish and a cow and insensitive chit (which is pretty much what he'd been getting at) but then he'd backhandedly called me brave, fairly _yelled _that I was one of the people he cared and worried about the most...and, somehow, that was actually _more _awful.

But, all that aside, how blind to my emotions could he be? How could he not see? How could he not feel?

"I've been in love with him for the past month but he hasn't...it hasn't even ever...he simply doesn't see it. I _can't_ believe that I'm such a good actress. I feel as if-" _I feel as if I can't find the words, _I thought to myself despairingly. "-as if my heart is on my sleeve everytime I'm near him. It's been so hard - so bloody hard! For me to pretend that nothing was different after the one time I slipped up and asked him-"

Lavender.

"Asked him what?"

And the way he loved her.

"Asked him how he really felt."

She made a face that just about summed everything up.

"First of all, I want to say that Dean is such a good sport about things that it blinds you to the fact that he has a deeper side." She took my hand in hers. "Whatever you _think_ he may feel may not be the case. You didn't see him yesterday, barely leashed anxiety in the Burrow, when you wouldn't respond to her mentally."

"I-"

"No, you didn't. And I'm not saying this to lead you wrongly even though I want to make you feel better. Dean Thomas was _not_ the gentle giant yesterday. If anything had happened to you, if anyone had touched a hair on your head, he would have lost it. Luna, he was _that _worried."

"It's the bond."

"It. Is. Not." I gave her a stern look. "Luna Lovegood, you are not a coward. You are a clever, pretty witch with a good head on her shoulders who can surely come up with something better than that. It is _not_ the bond, and it is _not _because you two are friends. Even if Dean isn't consciously aware of the way he feels, believe me, it's there."

I desperately - _desperately! _- wanted to believe her.

"You really think so?"

She nodded, and I searched her face for a truth that I couldn't find. The rain outside picked up a bit, the same pretty grey now hidden by a softer grey of fog. Beautiful weather for staying in, really, and I couldn't help but let my mind drift down to my garden.

"He was here for two hours yesterday, even when I wouldn't come down. I could hear him - Dean was that loud and that angry. He yelled at Daddy when I said no, then stood outside the door and yelled at me when I locked. Believe you me, I also know that that wasn't the gentle giant yesterday."

"Did you say anything at all?"

The rain was almost pretty.

"Why won't you see him?"

"Don't know what to say to him."

"What do you want to say to him?"

I kept my face blank.

"I think that what you most need to do right now is to figure out how to resolve this situation. Dean might not even know why it is that you did what you did. Indeed," I muttered darkly, "he probably hasn't caught on yet. And if he hasn't, you have two chocies: either let him figure it out on his own or slap him in the face with the truth of your feelings. You need to get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible, to catch up on all you've missed, and you and Dean need to realize that you are each perfect for the other.

"That way all this angst will have a good outlet."

_Speaking of which..._

"I'm going to be in serious trouble when I get back, won't I."

"Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were just as worried as we were. At the very least, you'll have some explaining to do." I faked a growl. "I'd better not be a bridesmaid down for the wedding. After all, I only have two!"

I managed a brief laugh - albeit, a teeny one but it was something.

"When he comes back, which I'm sure he will since he's not answering my owls or my calls and hasn't been seen by anyone today, consider talking to him. On one hand, how much worse could things get?" Hermione reasoned. "You can only go up from here. On the other hand, he might have an "oi, duh!" moment and realize that he's in love with you too!"

Hope for the hopeless, that's what everyone'd been offering me.

"If you need me, you know how to reach me."

I turned on my heel to walk out of the door.

"'Mione?" I looked over my shoulder to see a true smile on Luna's face. "Thank you."

"What are mates for? Things are going to work out just fine, I know it."

I didn't know about that, as I accepted a hug and watched her leave, but I didn't think she was convinced without reason. Unfortunately for me, the visits didn't stop coming.

An hour later, Harry and Ron showed up. Which meant I had to prepare myself to do battle with their tag-team abilities. Neither of them said a word at first. Ron had always been quite open about emotions and so I wasn't surprised when he wasted no time in sitting down and glaring at me.

Ron Weasley hadn't glared at me in a very long time.

I was surprised at how hurt I felt after realizing that.

Harry looked a mix between angry and concerned from where he stood at my bedroom door.

I was surprised at how anxious that made me feel.

"I'm very sorry," I whispered from my place at the window. "I didn't think about how this would concern everyone else, before I left."

"That's right, you didn't think," snapped Ron.

He looked as if he would open his mouth to say a whole lot more than that, but shut it after a moment's thought. I doubted he would leave without giving me a full accounting of how thoughtless I was, and I wondered if this was going to turn into another scene like yesterday's.

"What made you do it?" asked Harry gently.

"I've been dealing with a lot lately," I said on the edge of a shaky laugh, "and I just up and left to come back home, really."

Harry was quiet at that. Ron did not look anything even _close _to appeased.

"Of all the thoughtless bloody things to do-"

The words were too similar, too close - Ron sounded too much like Dean. Too much.

"-as if I can say anything to top what Dean said yesterday, but honestly, Luna, I can understand why he came in here ready to break doors. It was completely thoughtless! You had the _entire_ house in an uproar, and you should thank God your father had the good sense to send an owl out. Heart attack doesn't even begin to describe the way we-...are you crying?"

_Am I?_

Ron and Harry moved instantly, crouching down in a single movement (as if they were channeling the twins). I hadn't realized they could move so fast, neither had I realized I'd lost control over my tear glands until the redhead had stopped his rant to ask.

"You know," Harry said thoughtfully, "We believe you when you say that you've been going through some difficult things. It's been a pretty ridiculous summer everyone in the Wizarding World but I feel like you, in particular, have had a hard time with this."

"I didn't mean to yell, you know," Ron said ruefully as he touched my arm. "I just don't get where you're coming from and it was like being flash-backed into wartime. We didn't come here to add on to the shit-load of stuff Dean heaped on you yesterday."

"We had no idea what to think, and we weren't prepared for that." The Boy Who Lived took one of my hands in both of his, and squeezed tightly. "Whatever this, whatever is going on - even if you can't tell us, you _need _to tell Dean. This is between the two of you and, at the end of the day, no one can fix this but you too."

I nodded tearfully.

"It's nice when the two of you are on good terms, you know," interrupted Ron. "Makes it easier to keep from beating Dean into a pulp."

I laughed, _still _tearfully, and squeezed each of their hands.

"Hermione warned me this would be pretty bad."

Harry looked amused. "Did she? Was that before or after she gave you a tongue-lashing?"

"After, of course."

Ron grinned.

"How..." I cleared my throat softly, and tried again. "How is he doing?"

The two of them shared a look that spoke volumes.

"Well-"

"He hasn't-"

I looked from one to another when they both shut their mouths.

"Well, he hasn't what?"

"I can imagine that he's not doing too well." Something about Ron's wording made me the slightest bit apprehensive. "But I can't be too sure."

"You see, no one's seen him since he left here yesterday afternoon."

"I see," I murmured softly.

I didn't, not really, not clearly anyway. I wanted to be able to say that the Seer blood I'd inherited from that far-distant relative was going to kick in and illuminate my entire thinking but I didn't know how we'd ended up this way to begin with. I couldn't tell left from right at this point, much less could I tell what would make this work with Dean.

"Your only forewarning is that Nev should be along in the next thirty minutes, after work," said Ron brightly, like he meant to interrupt my train of thought. "I wouldn't worry about Dean, though. He'll be back around whether you like it or not."

"More like whether _he_ likes it or not," I said dryly.

Ron laughed, Harry did that funny thing he does with his eyebrows when he's silently amused.

"Speaking of which - Luna, you're going to get an earful from Professor Flitwick when you return. Which _needs _to be in the next two days, maximum, if you'd like to remain enrolled!"

"And Ginny too," Ron said with a knowing look, "and we know which of the two will be worse clearly."

Harry said something in his girlfriend's defense, while I looked out into the rain once more. I wanted to be comforted

"I have a feeling the two of you are already well on your way to being late to practice," I said instead of answer. "You should get going."

With a fair bit of grumbling, Ron pushed himself up to stand (something about rainy days and old knees) using Harry as leverage, who in turn grumbled.

Already I was feeling loads better.

"We'll be back here tomorrow, to lay into you once more." The redhead didn't look nearly as threatening as he sounded and, of course, his brotherly rub through my hair bellied the entire thing. "Honestly, you should be _gone_ by tomorrow!"

"Call or owl if you need anything, at all."

I hugged the Boy Who Lived quite close, before waving them through the door.

**oo**

It was almost eight o'clock by the time Neville showed up, looking much the worse for wear. He must have spent some time out in the fog, or gone somewhere today where it had rained, because their were droplets of moisture in his hair and the dark brown locks were beginning to curl at the ends. I couldn't explain away the bags under his eyes, nor could I come up with a reason as to why (well, other than yesterday's debacle) he would be looking so thoroughly-

_-disheartened._

I was on my feet immediately.

"Neville, what-"

"Extremely long day." He managed a genuine grin for me that didn't do anything to ease my worries, and tucked some of his hair behind his ears. "Don't worry about it just yet."

When he pulled me along with him to sit on the foot of my bed, he let out a deep sigh that sounded like it came straight from his soul.

Again, doing nothing to make me any less anxious.

He stared at me, and I stared back. And then-

"I suspected it only recently, you know," he began with a quiet smile, "about a week or two ago, after I thought about what on earth could possibly have you in tears on Draco Malfoy's balcony for your best mate's ball. Only two things came to mind - the actual discovery of a live Crumpled Snorcack, and Dean Thomas."

"When I really sat down and wondered, it became rather obvious that you two are _completely_ besotted with each other. I've never seen you - the both of you, mind you - experience such highs and such lows all in a short period of time. And I've rarely been on the end of Dean's moods, and I surely have _never_ been on the end of yours. But you two-" and here Neville shook his head in such a way that I was strongly reminded of Percy Weasley, of all people, "-you two really know how to get into it."

I didn't really have much of a chance to defend myself before he moved on.

"Still, I don't think I'm the first person to tell you how Dean feels and I doubt I'll be the last. I just wish you would have told me."

"I didn't tell anyone," I said softly. "Well, not everything about everything, at any rate-"

"I understand your situation far better than you think," he said firmly, "and I think I understand why you did what you did. Sometimes, it all becomes too much and-"

"-and you just need to get away," I finished with a slow nod. "Yes, that's exactly it."

We sat in contemplative silence for a long while after that, just staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace. What Neville thought about, I couldn't possibly begin to imagine. But the whole summer flashed by in my head - everything from reading the letter at first, to that interestingly awkward 'first date', to the first kiss - _everything_ unfolded like a Muggle movie-reel in my head and played out with attention to detail.

"You know, Cho might have married Cedric Diggory." I looked up when Nev began speaking again, sounding almost as if he were talking to himself. "She probably would have, if not for Voldemort. I still remember how perfect they looked together back in school. Hogwart's dream couple."

He wandered back into silence for a while.

"I never pretended to know more about anything than I do-" he began before he stopped. "I mean, I might have done a lot of things in the War but it doesn't mean I'm a hero. It doesn't mean I know anything more. All I know is that I'm a good person and I deserve a lot more than what I'm getting from Cho."

Neville shook his head.

"I understand why you didn't talk to anyone about how you feel about him."

"You know?"

He looked slightly puzzled at this.

"Doesn't everyone know at this point?"

-well, that was true now.

"The point is that I get it. It is pretty terrible to feel like you're in love with someone who doesn't know. But here's the difference between you and me, Lune," he said with a strange smile, "when he does know, he'll definitely care. There's no way he won't."

I still wasn't inclined to speak into the serious silence.

"Never any rest for Unspeakables," he said ruefully, "but I wanted to see you first. I have to run back to the office to file away some notes."

"You do? Already?"

He nodded and stood, already drying his cloak with a soft incantation - I got up and got the Floo powder from the edge of my desk.

"Thank you," I said softly.

"Not at all." He laughed briefly. "I can at least save one of us, can't I?"

_Well..._ not exactly how I would say so but I supposed he could. I waited for the bright change of color in flame as he tossed a handful in and pressed the satchet of the rest into my hands. When he disappeared, I returned to my room and closed the door behind me.

I had a lot to think about.

* * *

I didn't go home after I left her.

I didn't go back to the apartment to be bombarded by my best mates and I didn't return to my mother's house. It had been late afternoon by the time I'd stormed out of the Lovegood place but I showed up at my grandparents' house without warning, and although Pappie and Ma'am were confused at first, they let me spend the night.

The next day I sort of just apparated into magical London and walked the streets for a while.

It was late evening when I began wandering around main-street Diagon Ally. My mind was empty, as blank as a slate that's been wiped clean, but the blankness was good. It was numbing. It made me forget - at least for a little bit - that I was drowning in a relationship where I was always a step behind. Although the air was rather cold, it was good for me. At first, it made me walk a little slower, breathe a little deeper. I wandered down to The Leaky Cauldron, vaguely considered sitting down and having a drink, then dismissed the notion just as slowly to move on to the Magical Menagerie. The lights were warm - it was closing time though - when I passed by. Probably had all sorts of madness going on in there, what with the range of pets and creatures they kept on the ready. It made me smile to think of pets and creatures because of course Cub and Kit-

The thought cut itself off before I could bleed from it, almost like my brain was protecting myself.

The street was surprisingly empty for this time of night. A cold breeze blew. The sight of the place suddenly made me sad.

I turned sharply on my heels and went back the way I'd come, this time walking as if I had a purpose. A place to go. Someone to return to...none of which were true.

I just wanted to clear my head so I closed my eyes and thought of home-

and ended up outside the Lovegood place.

"Jesus Christ above," I swore aloud, shocked that I'd apparated without thinking very hard about it.

_Of course._

But, of course. It was late already, worse than late - probably closer to eleven o'clock than ten o'clock - and here I was, standing in the fog that surrounded her house and the little forest that bordered it on the sides, like an idiot. I palmed my face and thought of a way that I could waste time out here - so that I could be as close to her as possible without her knowing - and reached into my pocket to look at the phone that I'd turned off over twenty four hours ago. I fiddled with it (briefly considered turning it on) then tucked it back into my trouser pockets. Then I fiddled with my bomber jacket, messing with the frayed threads at the edges. Then I gave up fiddling and figured that since I was here I might as well do something about it.

I couldn't run if I was accusing Luna of doing that selfsame thing.

I tossed a twig at the house and when it sailed through the air untouched, I apparated in. The place was quiet and dark, all the lights turned off but a candle flickering somewhere in the kitchen. I moved about on memory alone, touching a chair here or brushing a wall there to work my way across the foyer and living room.

"Well, hullo there," I said when I found something twined around my legs. It could only be Kit, who was apparently wide awake and shredding something that looked suspiciously like parchment over by the dining room table. He meowed when I pet his fur, then meowed again when I lifted him off the ground to check out what he was destroying. It turned out to be Mr. Lovegood's notes for a different experiment that I had yet to see. "Look who's been very bad while I've been away."

Honestly, Kit was a hellion.

When I dropped him, he slunk off to do whatever it is that cat's do this time of night. I shook my head and moved on, temporarily amused. When I hit the first step on the stairs, all amusement fled. I didn't really have an idea of what I intended to do - shit, I didn't even know what I was _doing_ here in the first place - but we couldn't go on like this.

_I _couldn't go on like this.

Because when I thought of home, I thought of her. Even if she didn't think enough of me to-

"Fuck it."

_Fuck it._

I wasn't going to think too much about that.

When I came to the door that led to the Sun Room, I thought of every single thing I'd said the day before - every little cut I'd made, every truth I'd spoken, even the shit I totally hadn't meant to say outloud - and that terrible sound she'd made on the other side of the door when she was crying. I wanted so much to fix this but how could I when I wasn't really the problem? What _was_ I doing here in the middle of the night, like a fool?

"What am I do-"

I was beyond surprised when the door opened by itself, and Luna stood on the other side. You could have knocked me over with a feather but she looked as apprehensive as if she'd already known I was there. Which was a completely Luna-like thing to know, by the way, and shouldn't have shocked me in the least. None of the lights in the room were on, and the moon was nowhere to be found, but I felt as if I could see her as clearly as in daylight. All that long hair was trailing over the shoulders of her long nightgown, and her eyes were wide - so impossibly wide - that I suspected she'd been drinking something caffeinated before bed. There were dark rings under her those eyes, and she looked a little ill, and the Mediwizard in me strained to get free. I opened my mouth and said the only thing I could think of.

"You don't look well, Luna."

She blinked slowly, and cleared her throat like she was nervous before she spoke.

"I thought you might never speak to me again." It was my turn to blink slowly - _that_ had certainly been to the point. She wasn't finished. "I'd thought to get a glass of water, hiccups you know, and then I felt you here so I thought I might as well come on out."

I felt thrown off-balance, as if we'd backtracked to the first few weeks of our aquaintance when Luna's oddities would frequently stun me into silence.

"Oh." I fought to say something more intelligent than that. "Oh...well, since I'm here, you might as well go back to bed and let me get it."

"I'm not hiccuping anymore," she said quietly, and stepped back to let me into the room. I trailed silently behind Luna into her bedroom, completely aware of the strange pall that had fallen over the two of us in the darkness of the room, and not sure what to do about it. It wasn't until I heard her draw a deep shuddering breath that I knew something was up.

Whether that was the same thing that was up with me tonight, I had no idea. Still...I moved faster than I ever have to get to her, wrapping a hand around her wrist.

"What?" I asked. Her eyes looked silver in the dark of the room, and wet. She was gripping the front of her gown like she was in pain, and I immediately went into panic mode, rubbing her down like she was going to shatter in front of me.

"What is it? Are you alright? Are you in pain? Tell me what hurts and I'll take you-" I pushed her hands out of the way and felt her for a fever - "Forget that, just...just lay down and I'll get you that glass of water. But you need to tell me where you're-"

She let out this little laugh that tinkled like breaking glass, and sounded just as painful. I had never heard Luna Lovegood make a sound like that in my entire life, and I couldn't explain to you why it scared me. When she finally stopped, the wetness in her eyes had run-over and she was crying in earnest.

"Luna," I said half-crazed, "what is it? What's hurting?"

"My heart," she said raggedly.

I dropped her wrist and stood stock-still.

"Luna, something's _wrong_ with your _heart_?"

When I moved forward, she backed away from me. I was fearful - I felt like the world was ending - if she was sick, she had be taken care of right away. She should have told me, she should have-

"A-are you ill?"

"Sort of. You see, it's been hurting for a few weeks now." She swiped at the tear-tracks on her face and pulled away from me stand on the far-side of the room. "I suppose pain really might make one into a coward since I've been trying to deal with it on my own. At first, I couldn't figure out why my chest hurt me so much at the beginning of summer. Remember when I brought you food, when you told me to go to St. Mungoes because I had a bit of an attack by the door?"

I nodded apprehensively. She was evading this question like it was her job.

"That was the first time I had a panic attack like that, and I really did think about going to St. Mungoes."

"But you told me that you'd been seen and everything," I said slowly.

Luna, still swiping at the wetness on her face, stared me down across the room. I understood her silence to mean nothing that made sense to me. I felt like she was going to say something in the next few moments that would change something, and I was down right scared.

"I never wanted you to worry about me, you see," she said quietly, on the edge of a breath, "so I thought it best to fib a bit."

"Worry me with what?"

She stared me down again. I gazed back before something in me told me to break the silence.

"Luna, are you or are you not sick?"

She crossed her arms over her chest, but the move was so defensive that I was taken aback. I had no idea what to think, nor what to say, nor what to do. Maybe if I just stood here quietly, she would let herself tell the truth in the dark. Luna shook her hair out rather deliberately then toyed with the butterbeer cap necklace with the new ribbon that I'd bought her, the blue one I'd gotten her in a Muggle shop because it reminded me of the sky and _she_ reminded me of the sky, and looked at me the way a fighter whose gathering strength looks at an opponent.

_This can't be any good. I can't possibly be ready to hear whatever-._

"I'm in love with you."

...

...

...

"Y-y-y-you what?"

Another shuddering breath on her end.

"I'm actually rather more surprised than you, really, since you know I've never believed in that kind of thing for myself. Do you know I've never imagined my wedding day, or daydreamed about the perfect man, or fantasized about anything that came even close to what happened the morning of your exam?

_Who is-...love?_

"-sometimes I have to wonder why I'm much more comfortable being by myself and around my books and _The Quibbler_ than I am around other people-"

My entire world shifted off its axis, crashed and burned, only to be reborn and reordered. Luna Lovegood had just said something that I'd never suspected.

"-and I really never thought so. I wanted to keep it from you because I didn't want to-" Her voice was swallowed by a sob that wrung my heart. "I've never wanted to be a coward but even less so, I've never wanted to be burden."

"You're _in love_ with me?" When she opened her mouth to respond, I realized how dumb I was being. "No,no, no, I mean this rhetorically, since you've already-"

_Shit, what? _I tried to backtrack.

"I really just-"

"No, it's alright-" she began softly, hands tightening in the folds of her nightgown again. "I understand-"

"That's not what I mean, Luna, I-"

"It's a lot to take in, of-"

"No," I said forcefully, "I mean, yes, but I just need a bit of time."

Luna Lovegood was in love with me, Dean Thomas. I looked at her, those space luminous eyes in a smalll heart-shaped face I knew as well as my own, and felt that I had to go.

"I need to go."

She didn't say a word or make a sound.

"I need to go," I repeated firmly as I started backing up towards the door. "I'll be back in the morning."

I didn't wait for assent - just turned tail and walked out.

**oo**

Two hours later, I was pacing the floor of my bedroom, all the lights on, full brain-power, not caring that it was rapidly approaching two in the morning.

Luna was in love with me. She didn't just like me. No...she was _in love _with me.

_In love._

And I was blind.

And she was in love with me.

Why hadn't I seen this? Okay, so anything concerning Luna would never ever be readily apparent, but damn me I really should have had an inkling when she asked me that question about Lavender and then jumped to a conclusion that led her to run off.

Everything made so much sense now.

Early summer, she hadn't let me get all that close to her whenever she had her guard up. I'd had to break her down with laughter, or sneakily get around her walls when she wasn't paying attention. She'd had mental barriers up for the better half of the last three months that were unshakable. That terrible bloody time after that fight where she'd simply stayed away from me, which had been both characteristic and uncharacteristic of her because although she was a sucker for staying out of fights, she'd never been able to stand anyone being angry at her for longer than a day. I had been so angry that I'd totally forgotten that fact but everything was rushing back to me.

All the excuses, all the bull, all the side-stepping she'd been doing - so I _wouldn't find out. _

I snorted.

Fat lot of good that'd done her!

But what on earth did Lavender have to do with _anything?_

Where had she gotten that I was in love with Lavender?

And when was the last time that I'd been in love? What did that even mean?

My mind flew back to that conversation with my best mates, with Ron and Neville - _"If I had to- I dunno- guess, I'd say something about the way she sees me has changed. God only knows what I'm dealing with," I'd said. Then I'd caught that significant look Nev and Ron had shared, "I thought that was fairly obvious, with the way you two have been acting," Neville said thoughtfully. "Are you...well, what I mean to ask is - are you sure you aren't in love with her? And vice versa?"_ - and I froze right in front of my desk.

So might I be in love? Is that what that meant?

Because I'd shoved it off with a laugh, and then of course, finished studying only to go to her house because I had just wanted to see her.

_Which really points to being 'in love', _I thought slowly, and resumed my pacing. _But-_

No, there were tons of black marks in favor of this emotion. I tried to be rational as I rounded and imaginary corner in my room and quickened my pacing. Honestly, I was being blind too. I thought back to the very beginning of summer when we'd first gotten those letters from the Ministry. I had been pissed as _fuck_, because Luna was one of my best mates and I had never consciously looked at her even in a way that might lead to dating - my exact words being something like '_The Ministry was making a grand mistake with this. I loved her like a loved the rest of my friends. There was nothing sexual about it, nothing of that fast hard sort of wanting that I'd had for Lavender'_. Because she was sort of like a sister, and so was Ginny barring the fact that we'd dated before, but honestly, I'd been so shocked that it was Luna.

And then had come that godawful date where we'd decided to just go on as we always had.

Which, apparently for Luna, had not been succesful _at all._

_She's in...love? With me?_

I stopped in front of the wall and really thought about it. I mean, I liked to joke around with her but it wasn't until after the arranged marriage business that I'd crossed over and started to _really_ take advantage of touching her whenever I could...because...well, God knows that I loved touching Luna...I mean, it was only...

...natural...

_Except I always likened her to Ginny, who I completely look at as a sister by the point,_ I thought with difficult, _and you don't want to strip sisters naked like that so..._

Okay, so I wanted her.

A lot.

Like, all the time.

Big bloody deal.

Who _wouldn't_ want Luna Lovegood, when she was interesting and random and pretty and smart and nice?

Even when I had only known her by that terrible nickname Loony Luna, I'd still thought she was attractive. And now that I did know her a lot better, I never stopped telling her that she was beautiful to me, lest she forget. And she was interesting and random with the way she was always spitting off facts about mythical creatures I'd never even heard of, or worrying about her articles in the magazine, or introducing me to shoes that made your feet smell like _fruit_, or just up and fading out of conversation when she had her mind wrapped around something that she couldn't let go! Just look at the way she cared about the people she called friends - she went to see Hannah on her lunch breaks, visited Cho and Angelina at home, even took time to get up to her coworker's birthdays and parties for their kids. She'd memorized all of the flatmates favorite foods and when she wasn't off saving the world with kindness, she was dragging incredible amounts of food to our appartment just because she could.

She was Neville's other best mate, one of Ron's favorite girls in the world, and extremely special to Harry. My mother probably liked her better than she liked me (and I was only half-kidding when I thought this), Naira had called her 'little sister' just the other day, Adi was pretty close to worshipping the ground that the blonde walked on, and the twins looked at her as the most fun they'd had in awhile. Honestly, she was a good person and everyone could see that! I mean, who wouldn't want to be with her 100% of the time after getting to know her? I mean she was bloody well _magnetic _(I hadn't forgotten when Ron and Harry had had the nerve to say something to the effect of her looking like an angel at the start of the summer after a picnic at the park). It wasn't just me noticing her looks, it was a lot of others too! Which proved that I was normal and had _eyes _in my head, all the better to _see_ with...

Okay-

-Well, just hold on a minute-

-the argument was starting to sound hollow, even to myself.

_Oh my God, _I thought as I slammed my head against the wall, _Jesus Christ Almighty._

It wasn't possible.

I really couldn't be that blind to my own feelings.

"Aww, shit!" I said out loud. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, I can't be this dumb. I _cannot_ be this dumb. I mean, there's no way I'm this blind!"

Okay-

Okay, so maybe-

_Aw, shit._

Alright, I was an idiot too for not putting a name to my own feelings, since _clearly _I was in love with Luna Lovegood too.

All those times I'd wanted to see her and just chalked it up to friendship, that day she'd been downright _glowing_ after she found me helping her father and I'd felt at least a hundred feet tall, my reaction to her unconscious flirting on the way to the Burrow where I'd just wanted to steal her away and snog her senseless somewhere, our first kiss after she'd felt my grief halfway across London and came hurrying back to see me, all the times my protective instincts had spiraled out of control, the way I liked to irritate her just to see how far I could push her into turning red, losing my temper whenever and wherever she was involved (and here I winced after my display of temper yesterday!) _for God's sake_-

Okay, so I was already in love with Luna Lovegood, too.

I must have done my best to bury all of this subconsciously. Honestly, I should have recognized my own feelings everytime I apparated to her house by accident. My mind had never been very far from Luna this summer.

I wasn't sure whether I should laugh or cry in relief. I have no idea what my face was doing while I thought about all of this...Everyone else apparently knew, seeing as Harry and Neville had had the little heart-to-heart with me a while ago

I was an idiot and I was in love with Luna Lovegood. And for some reason my mind couldn't wrap around, she thought I was in love with-

_Lavender._

_..._

After a complete and total mind-bending night of revelations, this was one revelation I still didn't understand.

_Luna. _

I felt something flicker.

**_Dean, _**she said and somehow the thought came across the link as if she were right there looking sad in front of me, **_yes?_**

_Good, you're awake, _I said quickly. _I'm coming over. Is your bedroom fireplace on?_

**_You're what-? Yes, it's on but-_**

Clearly, she was confused. Clearly, she thought I was going to do something stupid like...I dunno...reject her feelings or something. I strode over to the fireplace and grabbed the pouch of green Floo powder off the mantelpiece. Clearly, Luna had set herself up for the worst. A burst of affection flooded through me -_ as if I could ever reject her! _- and I tried to make my next thought sound as kind as possible.

_Hold tight, I'm coming through._

* * *

Dean was coming back?

He'd run off with this funny look on his face, as if the wrackspurts had gotten to him, and I'd gone downstairs to get that glass of water and remained in the kitchen for a good hour. The look on his face had been an interesting mix between surprise and constipation - like he had no idea what he was going to do with himself but he certainly couldn't have done it in front of me. I don't rightly know if I had been capable of much more than letting tears run down my cheeks (which is what I did for a little while) but I really was feeling a little ill and I went back up to my bed and lay down.

Tired but beyond sleep.

_Well, he certainly can't accuse me of being a coward, anymore._ I'd finally done the adult thing and told him to his face what I felt. If he couldn't deal with it, then-_Then...well...I'll figure it out as I go along._

Which might lead to more heartache and a foray into the realm , but at least I'd followed Daddy's advice and my own heart, and actually told him.

And now, after running off, he was coming back and sounding strangely excited about it. I wasn't sure what to expect as I sat up in bed and faced the fireplace, where he was emerging head-first. After he straightened and dusted himself off, Dean stared at me and opened his mouth and said-

"I'm so sorry."

I blinked.

"What?"

He came over and sat on the bed, and reached for one of my hands to hold in his warm ones.

"For breaking your door yesterday," he continued. I found myself staring at him as if he might have grown two heads - _that's what he was sorry for? _- but he only smiled before he kept speaking. "For breaking your door and for going on some kind of rampage when I had no idea what was going on with you, which is usually the case with me. I should have known since I can't ever keep my head around you. Still, I don't know how I'm supposed to face your father in the morning - who the hell would want a son-in-law who breaks doors?"

"Oh," I said slowly. I wasn't sure what he was thinking, which was strange for me since Dean is usually an open book, and he had certainly just mentioned the word 'son-in-law' without flinching. And that word certainly meant marriage. Which I had been reasonably sure he hadn't wanted with me, since he may or may not still have had lingering feelings for Lavender Brown. And now I was just plain confused since he was lacing his fingers through mine?

"Oh," I repeated, "oh, w-well that's alright then. Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

He gave me a look like he knew I thought him strange.

"And what might you mean by that?"

I briefly thought of mentioning my suspicion that the wrackspurts had gotten to him, or perhaps he'd ingested something that Spurlies got into but...

"I suppose I just don't see where you're coming from."

Now the look he gave me told me that _I _was strange one.

"I'm sorry for being stupid and insensitive and generally wrong about everything." He lifted our intertwined fingers and then did something most unexpected - he kissed my hand. My heart started racing. "Because you must have had a very hard time of it all summer, trying to keep me out when all I've wanted was to be as close to you as possible."

I swallowed. He was looking at me directly and my heart was doing the funny flipping thing I'd thought I'd gotten used to.

I so _wasn't_ used to it.

I swallowed again.

"All that aside though, sweetheart," he said gently, "what I _really_ want to know is why on earth you think I'm in love with Lavender?"

"A few weeks ago, I came to surprise you with a visit at your apartment but you were-" I waved my hands (quite articulately, really) to indicate the kind of mood he had been in, "-not happy. You were on your bed listening to a recording."

He didn't interrupt but a light of understanding came into his eyes.

"After the Quidditch try-outs, I was overcome by something - heaven knows I found a small nest of doxies in the attic and anything could have happened from there - but I searched your room for the recording."

"I take it you found it?"

I felt slightly ashamed for no known reason, and nodded.

"Was this...?"

"Yes," I said simply. "I had to go, you understand. I couldn't stay."

When his face remained neutral, I felt myself sighing inside. The speech I'd prepared about not needing him to feel the same way, and that we could still go on the way we did before, and be together normally - I whipped it out with alacrity and issued it like an army general.

"Dean, I didn't think it would come to this either."

I really hadn't thought it would - but the telling him had been much worse than I'd thought it be, and now that the 'worst' was over, I felt like I could breath easier. Maybe I could even deliver this monologue without a single tear.

"I had hoped that I would be able to...sort this out before you realized it, or that you would-"

-_feel the same way before I had to do that-_

"-but that didn't happen. And now...here we are."

"Here we are," Dean repeated with a smile. Again, with that unreadable smile. When he nimbly turned my hand over and pressed a kiss to the palm, I stared.

_**You do realize that I heard that last thought, don't you?**_

"Here we are," he repeated aloud, his lips moving against my skin while I sat by and looked shocked, "and here I am, apologizing for the last big mistake I made, seeing as it took all of this to get me to see that I'm in love with you too, Luna Lovegood."

I stared some more, because heaven knows any other reaction would just take too much time and energy.

"You look shocked."

I blinked.

"Yes."

He arched an eyebrow, questioningly-

"Care to elaborate?"

"You don't have to say that too, you realize," I replied slowly, "since I don't expect it."

His smile was slow and deep and warm.

"I know," he said simply. "And I think you know that I know."

_Do I? _I thought to myself, numbly. I didn't dare believe him.

"I'm not very smart about these things." He took my hand again (limp as it was on the bed) and looked down as if he meant to read my fortune from my palms. "Actually, I dunno if I would have figured it out on my own though I'd like to think I would have. That's why I'm sorry, because it took so long to say."

Maybe I didn't believe him because this wasn't real. I might have already fallen asleep, you know, and was just under the impression that I was still conscious. The problem was that even if I pinched myself, it would still hurt in the dream so-

I bit the corner of my mouth-

Indeed, I was definitely awake and definitely bleeding and Dean was definitely telling me that he was in love with me as well.

Dean looked mildly shocked.

"You always manage to do something unexpected! Did you just-"

"I had to make sure I wasn't dreaming." I shook my head and swallowed the blood. It would be fine. "Just in case I'm being fooled into seeing something by Dolem's Song."

It looked like he would ask me what I meant for a moment, but the urge seemed to subside under a shocked sort of chuckle.

"You're not. And you haven't been."

If I wasn't, then it meant he-

"I do love you, Luna Lovegood."

This time, when he kissed my hand, I believed him.

"No one else."

Another kiss, this time to the inside of my wrist - more belief.

"Lavender was a very good friend and, more importantly, she was the one Seamus loved. I love her for that."

I didn't understand why my face was wet, why my vocal chords wouldn't work.

"I want to know what Dolem's Songs are, and read funny articles, and help your dad with experiments in his lab," he said with a grin. "And I want to play with Kit and Cub while I watch you work in your garden. I want to save you from your own cooking abilities, and I want to have time to paint you and find you odd little necklaces, and wait for you after you go traversing the countryside looking for mystical creatures. Sometime soon, I even want you to get me a pair of those awful fruity-smelling excuses for shoes you got as a present."

Dean seemed to take the tears in stride (honestly, how much water could my body hold? Hadn't I wept it all out already?) and he pulled me into his lap and wiped everything away.

"I want everything."

This was the only time I would allow myself to ask-

"Really?"

He nodded.

"I do, really. But most importantly, I want it all with you."


	15. Sunlight

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The longer line is a break in point-of-view. The old keys no longer function correctly.  
Author's Notes: ****Anyways,the long awaited scene Hermione witnessed. Disclaimer - I in no way, shape, or form endorse/promote/support unprotected sex. But it was hard for me to figure out a way to put in a contraceptive potion since we knew she hadn't been taking one, or introduce a condom since they didn't _plan_ to have sex. Remember: no glove, no love! Anyway**, the ending is the hardest part to write - it's going to be disgustingly abrupt for a last chapter! The epilogue will follow in less than an hour, and the first chapter of Padma and Ron's story will follow right after that. Thank you for being patient until the end. Thank you to my betas (ThatOneGuy92) (Muffinsback) (ToniToneTon) for putting up with my frenetic writing and jumping the gun on posting~~~ .~~~~  
_Adieu for now! _

* * *

Chapter 15 – Sunlight

_I feel like everything is just so much better after a good night's sleep - Dean (Sixth Year), the morning after a stag night._

* * *

I woke up to the sun directly in my eyes, nearly blinding me when I opened them. The familiar cream ceiling of Luna's bedroom, the random splash of dark blue paint in that right corner, even the cream of her window curtains - I saw everything with new eyes.

_The world does look different when you're in love. _

I was expecting birds to burst into song and pretty flowers to go into hyper-growth mode and wind themselves through the windows. Maybe if a wisp of cloud floated into the window I'd be pleased. I had to laugh again as I reviewed the direction of my thoughts (the softness!) and shook my head. It was disgustingly sentimental; I perished the thought. Luna was fast asleep still, curled into my side and barely making a sound. Any minute now she would make a slow rise back to consciousness, but for now I had a few blessed moments to just watch her sleep.

It felt like a week had gone by, at least.

_Correction_, I thought, _we've managed to fit a week's worth of drama into a mere twelve hours._

I was actually rather tired - it couldn't have been later than ten or eleven in the morning. I don't think we'd managed to get to sleep before five. For maybe the fourth time in my entire life, I'd seen Luna cry. Strangely enough, I hadn't been wigged out or angered by it. She deserved more than a little down-time in between running away from school, avoiding friends, and figuring out her feelings. Besides, I was the idiot who'd put her through this.

So I hadn't minded at all.

She'd cried and I'd spoken and she'd cried some more. I could swear we'd started out sitting but for a really long time after that, we'd just laid together on the bed. We hadn't been touching at all (her hands cushioned her head and her pillow cushioned mine) but she'd just gazed at me, not even like she was memorizing me or anything, just like...she was just _looking_ at me. Luna Lovegood was looking at me. And I'd found myself looking back. She didn't say a word and I didn't say anything either.

The silence felt a little sacred.

Just before she drifted off to sleep, one of my hands found hers.

That had been all.

_Now is she ready to talk?_ Although I was the one who had been confessed to, I felt like I probably needed a little confirmation just to make sure. _I'd really like to know._

It looked like I would be hearing from her sooner than later - there was that signature yawn she made when rising back to consciousness, then the blink-

-Luna Lovegood was officially awake. She looked quite tired, and although I've never known her to have bags under eyes, she looked like she was prepping to get some. Still, she only smiled a little when I rubbed her back.

"How long?"

"Ten minutes at most," I responded easily. "The sunlight woke me."

"Time?"

"Maybe eleven?"

She nodded sleepily. I couldn't wait to say it.

"I love you."

Those blue eyes rested on me for a moment before she curled back into my side. Not exactly what I'd expected.

"I thought you might have left before I woke," she said quietly.

I touched her hair lightly and thought that this would possibly be why I was in love with her.

She went on unperturbed.

"I expect I'll have to go back sometime tomorrow, the same way I came."

She would. And she was going to be in some intense trouble when she got back, no doubt. I could only imagine what Professor Flitwick and Headmistress McGonagall would do - at least it was the start of the school term and she couldn't dock a House negative points...could she? Could they? I rather doubted it though - not that Hogwarts plays favorites or anything - but I don't think she would be too punished in that manner. Still, you never know with those Heads...

_I hope not... it'd be the fastest way to become the least popular chit in school._

"Indeed," was all I said aloud. "I would ask you whether you slept well but I don't think either of us got more than six hours."

It earned me a wider smile from her before an odd look came over her face.

"What?" I prodded.

"What are the odds that Daddy came in here before he went off to work?"

_-oh, shit. _ (If it's in italics, it's because they are thinking those words and not saying them ;] )

That was the one thing I hadn't considered in my harebrained scheme to come over in the middle of the night. Mr. Lovegood was so laid-back about everything that I never thought twice about doing things like this but _because_ he was so laid-back; I didn't want to do anything that my lower myself in his esteem. I sincerely _hoped_ that he hadn't done so but I had a feeling that I would have snored right through everything and anything that tried to break in here.

"That's exactly what I thought as well," she sighed, pushing herself up unto her elbows. "I sincerely hope he hasn't come in yet. Though he really shouldn't have yet, since he ought to be out looking for the Purple Chambered Kauntilikos."

I blinked.

"The what?"

"Didn't I tell you about them? The Purple Chambered Kauntilikos. They're invisible creatures with tentacles that usually make their homes in small bodies of water, since they're only as long as my arm." Her face took on a thoughtful cast as she continued. "You know the lake out back should be checked for them. I hope that's what Daddy is doing instead, but he's probably already at the office."

I blinked again. I didn't question that the Purple Chambered Whatsits did exactly as she said it did. But now that I was reminded of her father...

"That's two black marks against me," I muttered.

"Two?"

"Breaking down the door and creating a scene in his house?"

"Ah," she said delicately. Her cheeks colored up faintly (which I thought was odd but adorable, especially since she didn't actually have anything to be embarrassed about since _I _was the one who had done the breaking) and she shrugged a little bit. "How could I have forgotten?"

She might never forget.

Neither might Mr. Lovegood.

_Still, she might never have said anything otherwise you know, _I defended myself _to _myself as I tried to hush the massive part of me that was insanely embarrassed that my future father-in-law had seen me lose it so completely. _And I might never have figured it out._

"Honestly, I can't even begin to explain to you how badly I feel about my behavior yesterday. I mean," I said sheepishly, "I feel terrible. I can't even begin to make it up to you. Really-"

She gazed at me for a long time.

"I might never have said anything otherwise, I suppose. Or at least it would have been ages before I did. And I love you too."

I kissed her again. I wasn't going to argue with that. She pulled away and looked at the windows.

"Mail's here."

I followed her line of sight and saw nothing.

"E-eh?"

"Mail's here," she repeated.

I don't know why I was so surprised. Like she'd predicted it, the steady tapping of nails on glass sounded from beyond her window seat. With a careless shrug, she pushed herself off the bed and crossed the carpet to pull the curtains back and invite the three impatient owls in. If the pecking was any indication, there were some people out there who wanted to speak to Luna quite badly.

"Patience," she crooned. They fell into line while she fed them enough owl treats to make their homeward journeys significantly longer, then she rummaged about for parchment and ink. "Cho, Hannah, and Ginny."

"You'll never hear the end of it."

"Probably not."

I watched her unroll and read them all, scanning quickly, before drafting three separate notes back.

"Barring Ginny, the other two haven't been over yet?"

"Cho's off with Pansy in Ireland-"

"Pansy _Parkinson_?"

Luna looked up, looking mildly surprised.

"She's Blaise's intended. They've become thick as thieves lately." Well, _that_ was a pair I don't think I'd ever come up with in my wildest dreams. "The two of them hit it off at Harry and Neville's double birthday party, though Hannah and Pansy didn't do quite as well."

I imagine Hannah didn't make it her business to befriend old Death Eaters at this point.

"And Hannah?"

"It says here that she couldn't get away from work before one o'clock last night, but that she's marching over here as soon as possible." I watched Luna smile a little, and shake her head as she re-read it. "I'll never hear the end of it."

"You'll never hear the end of it," I agreed. "What do you feel like for breakfast? I'm starving."

"Whatever you feel like making would be nice, though Mrs. Weasley brought over some food yesterday."

Good God, yes.

"Whatever it is, we're having it," I said quickly."I'll get lunch, and I'll make enough to last your dad a few days, but now that we're on speaking terms again, I'll be around all the time to help him with experiments either way. But back to this amazing _food_ from the kitchen of Molly Weasley, that we're about to have."

Luna was laughing again, waving me away.

"Oh, go on, I won't be able to finish penning these notes if you're up here."

She need not have spoken. I was already out the door.

**oo**

"I think I ate too much," I groaned happily. "Only half of it is left now."

Luna looked prettily amused. Well, maybe she looked amused and I just thought she was pretty. She probably could have rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue at this point and I would _still _have described it as pretty. Usually her hair was out and about and doing its own thing around her shoulders but right now it was caught up in a bun with chopsticks holding it in place. And God those chopstick looking things were actually really glittery and girls would probably say they were very cute. And while they were - pretty I mean - what I _really_ wanted to do was whip those ornamental things out of the bun and run my hands through her hair-

"-always, if I say so, since you do-"

-but what were the odds that she'd let me do that in the kitchen? Though the kitchen reminded me of eating and eating reminded me of...

...that thought was better left unfinished at the moment.

Well, it wasn't that she was a strict follower of rules or code but we'd only just gotten up and we'd only just eaten. Hm, and the thing with her hair is that it made me think of other places I could be running my hands over and around. And they were definitely good places, places that needed me to get all in there. Even as she was talking, I was discreetly weighing the pros and cons of openly asking her if I could kiss her versus tricking her into returning to her bedroom so I could get her where I wanted.

"-you said you wanted a pair-"

It was funny how suddenly I could go from 'food' to 'girl'.

I was hungry for an _entirely_ different meal now.

_Yep_, I thought to myself, _Dean has a new appetite, and he is about to go out and get what he wants_.

"Did I?" It was a safe enough question since I could only guess she meant something about shoes.

"You did."

"Then will you get me a pair?"

She smiled - and the word _pretty_ reverberated around in my head like a litany - and I smiled back and then waved my wand around to get the plates into the sink. I was half-hearted about getting them done and almost botched the spell but Luna whispered it before I could. The rush of water and the cheerful activity of a scrubber and soap filled the room. Luna motioned me up (as if I getting us back to her bedroom wasn't my grand master plan) and padded out of the kitchen.

I unconsciously followed the sway of her hips.

I also unconsciously kept pretty damn close behind her all the way to her room.

I have no idea why I couldn't control myself. I don't know if I was bothered enough to care.

"We should shower."

"S-shower?" My brain stumbled into a mini-fantasy land with that one word. For a minute, I thought she meant together. God couldn't have smiled down upon me this early in the day.

"You've left lots of clothes here and everything is in the guest room, so you can get dressed right after you get out-"

Luna always took _at least _half an hour to bathe and there was no way I was going to wait that long.

I was kissing her before she could finish her sentence and after an adorable moment of shock where I could tell she wanted to pull back, she gave up and surrendered her weight. _Thank God for that_, I thought briefly, before I shoved the door to the Sunroom open, and forwent propiety and pulled her legs up. Smart girl that she was, she immediately took the cue and wrapped herself around me.

"There was no way-" I said briefly, "that I could have waited for you to shower."

She made a noise that I couldn't decipher but it really did sound like laughter, then when I had her up against the wall, she made another noise that pretty damn clearly said 'Whoa'. I laughed a little bit and yanked those chopsticks out of her bun but forgot all about laughing when her hips rolled. It was the quickest way to get my attention, I'll admit, and I literally couldn't stop myself from grinding into her hard. My hands couldn't decide where they wanted to be (and neither could hers) so I kept flitting back and forth between her hair and her hips and the arch in the small of her back and her thighs.

"Wait," she said, pulling back with a gasp.

"What?"

"Soundproof it."

_That's all?_

"Already taken care of," I said, already re-fastening my mouth to the neck that was now mine for the taking. Little did she know that I'd actually sound-proofed it last night when she'd fallen asleep, just because I could. It looked like surprise was going to cross her face any minute but I worked one hand underneath her dress to strip her down to nothing and she was _instantly_ distracted. There's nothing like kneading every bit of flesh that one can find to throw one's girlfriend off the scent-

"Wait!" What could she possibly be on about now? "The door's still open!"

"Never mind that."

Obviously, I wasn't doing enough if she was half-naked and still able to form sentences and hold conversation. I'd close the door eventually, _eventually_, but now was not the time to worry about that. Another clash of mouths to distract her, and with a little work, I shimmied her loose cotton shirt up and felt for the edges of her bra and did away with that.

"Oh-"

Now, _that_ was a sound that said 'yes'.

I filled my hands, and while that made it a tad bit trickier to keep her up against the wall, it made me a very happy man. That and the fact that she was now enthusiastically yanking me in for another long drugging kiss. Something went odd with the bond so that it felt like recoil, like something snapped and suddenly everything was double. It stopped us in my tracks.

She stared at me and then smiled widely.

"Do you feel that?"

I nodded, eased back unto her mouth and felt the ghost sensation of kissing her kissing me. I could get used to it - okay, God knows I real quickly got used to it since I couldn't stop kissing her. I have no idea how much time I spent just enjoying her mouth but God knows it felt like it wasn't enough. And then it wasn't enough since I abandoned her chest to travel further south. She made another sound and her hands came up like she wanted to stop me but I didn't have time for that. One hand pinned her wrists to the wall and the other slipped past her shorts to get into her.

_Oh, hell _yes_._

I imagine she had the same sentiment since she sort of just lost it after that.

I twisted my free hand in her hair and yanked her head back so I could get at her collarbone, but she bucked so hard against my fingers that I ended up kissing my way back up to her mouth - God, I loved her mouth - so that she would be still. I was all over her, every little bit of her that I could get to when I could do without oxygen. As ridiculously cliche as this might sound, she was so...hot. In every meaning of the word. It was like touching a space heater, like there was enough warmth in the wet to make the rest of me hot. And the double sensation made me feel that heat as my own. I watched as she seemed to lose all inhibitions, all sense of the reticence that had been there the first time around, and tilt her head back when she grabbed my shoulders.

"Dean-"

There was nothing she had to say that was importance at this moment. I wouldn't let her speak - speaking usually wasn't productive where Luna was concerned - so I shifted away from the wall and changed the angle of her hips-

"Oh my _God_!"

She clearly had no idea how to be still. She also looked a bit delirious, eyes slitted and her hair everywhere and her body as tight as a string.

"Oh my-"

She came quite suddenly.

The force of it shook her, and the aftershocks shook _me_.

This was good.

This was great.

"Change of scenery," I muttered. The wall was all good and fine but I wanted a bed. And Luna naked. But a bed first, in order to have Luna naked. I remembered to kick the Sunroom door shut before I stood still and marveled at the fact that her legs were wrapped around me. Luna looked absolutely dazed.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked me blearily.

I was shocked.

"Shouldn't I be asking you this?"

She looked interested.

"Should you?"

I laughed long and loud, before I took her down to the bed.

"I'm surprised no one's taken advantage of you yet!" She looked pleased for a reason that I couldn't fathom but I asked her anyway. "Luna Lovegood, are you sure about this?"

In a move I would have _never_ expected from her in a million years, she rolled me over and ground herself right into me. I swear to you, there was no way I could have cut off the sound that rose right in the back of my throat. She smiled like she knew exactly what she was doing, then stripped her shirt off herself-

_Oooooookkkkaaaaayyyyy._

Yeah.

There was no stopping this now.

* * *

"Fuck _yes_" was the only thing I heard right before he reversed our positions and took off his shirt in the process.

This was different than the first time, where I'd been struggling to not give myself away. Though usually Dean can be described quite accurately by the word 'gentle', I was fairly certain that that wasn't what he had going on in his head. That little foray into 'hard and fast up against the wall' pretty much proved that. It was a whole new experience this time around - and strangely enough, the pressure was even higher. Or maybe it was the mood?

Either way we were both not 'gentle', and certainly not patient if anything could be said about the quickness with which he'd made it into the bedroom. I was fairly certain that this bond was doing something ridiculous that made me feel like I was...heavens, I don't even know...like even though he was the one doing the touching, I was somehow a part of that? Like, I was the one touching myself?

I was also fairly certain that there was no going back, and I was _certainly_...er, certain that I didn't want to.

I wanted everything, I wanted everything _right now_, and I wasn't going to be ashamed of that.

He was moving so fast that my brain could barely process one caress before his hands were off to a different part of me so I sat back and relaxed and let it take me until-

"Dean!"

_Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God oh m-_

"-y God!"

He was actually-

Oh, _God_, that was definitely his tongue.

"Oh my God-"

I didn't even know that that was possible, or that he would want to-

"Oh my _God_," I moaned and arched into his mouth.

I had to hold on to something because I couldn't breathe, it was too warm in here, he was too intense, _this is too intense_ - I felt like cursing, I felt like there wasn't even a curse strong enough to capture the entirety of this new wildness and God-

-_his tongue!_

"Dean!"

It was all I could say. Why hadn't I been told about this? Was there any point in saying anything else? Had anything ever existed before Dean? How flexible could a tongue be, and why hadn't anyone ever told me about this? More importantly, how flexible could _his_ tongue be and why couldn't I breathe? And when did I lose my panties? _Why hadn't I been told about this?_

Unfortunately, he seemed to take that last bit as a demand for an answer and pulled back.

"Yes?" Smirking as if he couldn't be any more pleased with himself. "You called?"

I stared at him.

And stared.

And when he did nothing, I finally asked.

"What on earth did you stop for?"

A look of mock surprise came over his face.

"Oh, I just thought you wanted an answer."

Because I was listening to him rather intently, I didn't notice when he moved up until he was pretty much in my face. Something about the way he was slanting his eyes made me feel a burst of anticipation.

"No?" he asked slyly. "You didn't want an answer?"

"No," I breathed, "not at all."

"No? Well, you should-" He stopped himself so he could rain kisses down on the underside of my face, "say so-" now the skin of my neck, the flesh of my collarbone (he seemed to be extremely fond of my collarbone), "next time."

His hands were back in action, everywhere at the same time. If I could have gotten in a word edgewise, I might have been able to come up with anything better than his name.

Well, maybe.

"Alright?"

Had he asked me a question? And when had he lost his trousers?

"A-ah," I murmured. I mean, granted he was wearing black boxers that said 'National Treasure' on the front and that was extremely interesting if only because there was only one clear implication, but where were his hands? And what was I agreeing to? And what were his hands _doing underneath me_? "Is that a pillow?"

He murmured something about making better angles, which I didn't understand at all, while he shifted the pillow under me and then murmured something like 'you'll see in a minute'. Which I sort of understood to mean something even more exciting was about to happen. Though...it was hard to believe it got any more exciting than this, though I knew mechanically what would happen next.

"Hold on."

_Hold on?_

"What-" The words were lost in one of those long kisses that usually had me breathless and slightly muddled by the time it ended. "Alright."

I was unprepared for how very...

_uncomfortable_

_..._it would be.

No, honestly, why hadn't anyone ever told me about _this_?

"Dean," I said after a moment, "this is actually quite possibly one of the most painful things I've ever felt."

He looked slightly unhappy but not unsurprised.

"I don't think it's supposed to be painless-"

"Well, I'm sure I already knew that."

I honestly wasn't trying to be snarky at all. I was simply stating fact. He pulled away from me. It hurt almost as much as the initial going in so I grabbed his hips.

"Stop."

"Stop?"

Well, this was a bit of a dilemna. I breathed deeply, deep enough to steal all the air from the room, and tried not to shift. Dean was still frozen, and looking at me very carefully.

"Start."

Okay, _now_ he looked dumbstruck.

"Start?"

"It was just as terrible when you tried to pull away," I explained rather patiently, "so start."

Dean was now frozen, dumbstruck, and amused. I just sort of...shut my eyes tightly and willed myself to move forward a centimeter.

"Ah," Dean moaned. "Wait. O-okay, wait- just wait a minute, and let me just try something else."

I couldn't speak since it was all I could do to deal with the pressure.

"Are we going to find the Purple Chambered Konti-creature?" he asked suddenly. My eyes snapped open. "Today?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Whatsit that's outside your lake?"

I stared at him, feeling the most absurd need to giggle. He looked expectant, despite the fact that all his weight was distributed over arms that were stretched on either side of my head. When he arched an eyebrow like he was actually waiting for an answer, I gave up and started laughing.

"What does that have to-"

He took the opportunity to surge ahead and close every single bit of space between us. I don't think I could have been any less able to breathe if I had been punched in the stomach.

"I'm so sorry, love, I just had to-"

"Yes, I understand," I gasped out, "distraction."

"Won't move until-"

I sucked in as much air as possible and tried to breathe enough to get used to the awfulness of my entire southern region. Breathing was good, air was good, breathing was making everything better.

"-you tell me to, alright?" he said quickly, kissing me briefly (which was cutting off the air). The tightness wasn't dissipating quite as quickly as I'd prayed but it wasn't as bad as it had been initially. "Alright?"

I simply buried my face into his neck, and even then I could feel him press a kiss underneath my ear.

"Slowly?" he said.

I nodded. He moved and I felt him as deeply as I felt myself. The damn burst, the wall crumbled, and then I felt _more_. I breathed again and then breathed once more when he pushed forward, somehow with more force than movement, some how making that far-off _something_ come closer than before. He slipped a hand underneath a leg and lifted it and-

_Fuck._

Excuse my French but holy heaven, what a difference the move made. It was like discovering and entirely new set of organs that you hadn't the faintest idea were there and then learning how to use them a minute later. He trailed open kisses down my face, the underside of my chin, the flesh of my neck, my collarbone. I arched when he moved forward again and then got distracted when his mouth sucked at my skin.

"Just breathe."

Whatever he was doing was going to leave a mark and heavens, I couldn't bring it in me to do anything but purr. Forget breathing! The recoil of the bond slapped me in the face and I could hardly think. He kissed me again, kissed me like he'd never kissed me before, like he'd kiss me for centuries and never get tired of it. For a good long time, my entire world dwindled down to hands and fingers and the feel of Dean all over me. I broke for air and he pulled me back under and moved again.

"I love you."

If I could have said something, I probably would have.

He didn't give me a chance. Dean stole my breath with another kiss and thrust forward so sharply that I groaned into his mouth. The bond snapped again and he withdrew and I reeled backwards. The grind of his body into mine was automatic, already, and my hands clawed at the sheets below me. I couldn't get myself to think about anything other than this. For a minute, I tried to figure out what in heaven's name was making that erotic sound before I realized that was _me_. He shoved an arm underneath me and dragged my hips upward for another thrust that hit something incredible.

"Oh my G-"

Double-vision set in and I let the sensation of having and being had wash over me. I pushed against his chest, trying to find something to hold unto then rolled into the next few inward drives. His pace was too fast, too punishing, and I was scrambling to keep up. One of his hands tunneled into my hair and twisted, hard, before he dragged me up by my curls to kiss him. Oh God, I couldn't breath but it was _delicious_, it was amazing, it was _debilitating_, it-

He slammed into me with his entire weight thrown forward, like he was going to get as close to me, embed himself as far as he could before he couldn't. My hands clawed his back now, nails digging into the slick skin of his back, sliding against sweat down to the firmness of his buttocks, slipping off him entirely to grasp sheets again. He made this sound that was a curse and laugh in one go and reached between us with the hand that had been in my hair. I gasped - oh Merlin, stretching again - the stretching was killing me again. Oh God-

"I really can't-"

"Shh."

He'd decided that I needed more, I could read the intent before he made a 'come here' motion with his fingers. The sound I made couldn't even be really classified as human, truth be told, since the gurgled half-scream wasn't anything decipherable. I had no bloody idea why the hell he thought I needed _extra_ stimulation when just riding this thing out was about all I could do. I died a billion little deaths with each drive forward, with his increasing pace, with the fact that his face was tight with concentration but his eyes managed to connect with mine and not let go. He stroked me from the inside out and leaned back, angling himself strangely as I arched almost off the bed.

This time when he lifted my leg up, I groaned again and dragged him down into another mind-blowingly numb kiss. His breath hitched, almost as fast as mine, and he lost complete control of the pace. Now it was an all-out gallop, a burst of energy, desperate mouths and hands and kissing and thrusting and driving and when I panted it came out as a wail instead of an exhale-

"Come on, Luna," he growled lowly. "Come on!"

_Come on!_

Oh God, I couldn't keep up. He was wild and I was dying and I knew what he wanted. My hands framed his face. I pressed my lips to his and said his own name into his mouth before I shattered. He took it, gave my own back to me in a moan and a few last-ditch thrusts, and collapsed.

I tried to move my arms and decided that I was very much okay with not moving ever again. He was heavy. And panting. I didn't care.

With a grunt, he rolled over so I wasn't so breathless or squashed. It was very nice of him to do so.

"Um...Dean?"

This time when he burrowed into my messy hair with his hands, he gently tugged me into a kiss.

"Mm?"

"I love you too."

He smiled, wrapped an arm around my waist, and tucked his head into the crook of my neck. Within moments, I was asleep.

**oo**

"I am so very sorry, Professor." I managed to look appropriately sorry in front of both the Headmistress and Professor Flitwick. "I apologize for leaving before first discussing it with either one of you. I should have asked for permission, and should have known better as part of the Seventh Years. I'm sorry for any trouble I caused."

The Headmistress gave me an incredibly blank look.

"Meaning you intended to leave premises eventually?"

I thought it best not to say a thing.

"I see, Miss Lovegood." My head of House didn't look much happier but at least he wasn't scowling. Professor was sitting in a smaller chair by the flickering fireplace, his worry tempered by relief. "You understand that you will be punished?"

This is what I had been expecting. I squared my shoulders and nodded.

"Two hundred and fifty points from Ravenclaw," the Headmistress said on the edge of a sigh. "You're lucky that it is only the second week of the school year. Otherwise, the rest of your House would be substantially angrier at you than they will be when they wake up tomorrow morning. Professor Flitwick shall decide your mode of detention."

I bowed from the waist down and apologized again. When I straightened, Professor McGonall had rose to her feet and was crossing the room to

"Thank Merlin you are safe." Her face remained stern for only a moment before it softened. With her hand on the doorknob, she inclined her head. "What you were looking for, did you find it?"

I gazed at her thoughtfully.

"That and more."

A gem - one of her increasingly rare but genuine smiles graced her face before she left the room. I smiled at the door then turned back to Professor Flitwick.

"Hogsmeade visits are a requirement for all those who fall under the Marriage Law," he said with a faint smile, "so you may hold unto those, Miss Lovegood. The evenings of your weekends will be devoted to helping Mr. Filch, the bulk of your weekdays will be spent with Hagrid whenever he needs help taking care of the grounds. I expect your assignments to be completed regardless of the amount of time given to outside tasks, yes?"

I'd gotten off lightly and I dared to cross the room and hug him. He looked surprised and then wistful.

"Thank you, Professor."

He patted my arm quickly and smiled, opened his mouth to say something before it looked like he thought better of it.

"It's late. And as I understand it, you'll be wanting to talk to your betrothed and attempt to catch up on your assignment before you nod off."

He sent me off with a wave. I closed the door and barely contained a tiny whoop of glee. If I'd been less of a reserved person, I might have actually clapped my hands together in delight.

_Dean! Weekends with Filch, weekdays with Hagrids, and I get to keep Hogsmeade weekends!_

Surprisingly, Dean was not asleep yet although I knew he was due to start his apprenticed Healing rounds early the next morning. Instead he was as overjoyed as I was.

**_Thank God! _**He sent me a warm cuff of feeling.** _That's good to hear, sweetheart. I'm guessing this was Flitwick's idea?_**

_McGonall actually wasn't too terrifying, _I thought easily, _if I didn't know better I would guess she was just relieved that I'd returned safely._

I could just tell that he was laughing.

**_How many points?_**

_Two hundred and fifty. _

**_Holy fu-_**

_It could have been worse, _I interrupted quickly. _Although I doubt I'll be popular with the rest of the House for a little while. But at least the first Hogsmeade weekend is in two weeks!_

He made a huffing sounds as I made a start for the Common Room. Sure, it was a long time but it was also a blessing to be allowed that time. I turned the corner only to be presented with a sight for sore eyes.

Ginny Weasley, looking pissed and relieved and worried all at once.

"I've been waiting for hours!"

"You have not." She waved that off then took my arm and dragged me down the hallway. "I've been standing here for about an hour, having staved off..."

_Gin's here. Are you going to bed soon?_

_**Fifteen minutes or so**, _he thought with another laugh, **_which is _not_ enough time for you to talk with Gin. It's fine. I'll wake you up before Study of Ancient Runes. Second period with Slytherin?_**

"...which is terrible so..."

_Can you just wake me up when you get up?_

_That's in less than six hours, you should know._

I had so much to do in the library that I wasn't sure I should go to bed tonight at all. If I could just borrow the Invisibility Cloak from Gin since Harry had given it to her, then I could probably get a headstart on the twelve assignments I'd missed.

**_Don't even think about it Luna. Go to bed. I'll wake you up when I get up._**

I smiled. He probably frowned, all the way across England in his bedroom.

_Sleep well. _

**_You too, sweetheart._**

When I checked back into my immediate surroundings, Gin was tapping her feet impatiently.

"Oh, are you back with us?" she asked sweetly. "I figured that if I stopped talking long enough, you'd catch on."

"Sorry, it was-"

"Dean," she finished. "Yes, I know what that face means when I see it. Harry told me some things, your letter told me absolutely _nothing_ and so I expect you to come clean tomorrow."

"To-"

"Of course, not tonight!" Ginny was adopting this uncanny manner of knowing things before I even said it. I blinked slowly while she looked at me. "What'd they give you?"

"Weekday evenings with Hagrid. Weekends with Filch."

She made a face.

"Could have been worse, could have been the other way around. How many points?"

She expelled a great blast of breath when I told her.

"Sorry to tell you this, but they were actually up one hundred points and in second place." _Why wouldn't they be_, I thought with a slight wince. "Well, what's done is done and you can only do your best."

She drew me into a long hug.

"You have no idea how worried I was - you're lucky I couldn't get a hold of parchment for a Howler - but Harry told me everyone dealt with you so I'll keep my rants to myself.

"I know - I can only say that I'm sorry. I am, I didn't realize-"

"Only you would go traipsing off grounds without a thought for danger," she teased when she released me. "Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning and I'll give you all the notes you missed and my copy of some of the assignments, if I can find those.

"But what's-"

"I asked Terry Boot. The password is 'Gobblygook'."

"Are you sure you're not clairvoyant?" I asked wryly. "Honestly, I haven't been able to get a word in edgewise yet."

"Aren't you a descendant? I only read faces well." She waved over her shoulders as she walked away. "Eight o'clock for breakfast, don't forget. Good night!"

* * *

"It feels like we're going to the county fair, doesn't it?" Harry asked me.

Boy, did it!

It was like knowing that you were on your way to the most awesome place in the world, knowing that if you could just abandon the car ride with your family and fly to the damned fairgrounds yourself you totally _would_. That's what this early Saturday morning felt like.

"All the poor sods who have a fiancee in Hogwarts must be feeling the way we do," I murmured back. "Thank God she didn't get banned from these."

Harry made a commiserating noise and slapped my back as we walked down Main Street to wait for the girls. Gin, in addition to being Prefect, was also the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Apparently she was going to do her best to get some money out of the twins so that she could get something at Spintwitches for her broom. We'd be at the bookshop behind Dogswish and Deathcap, the Herbology shop. Luna didn't have anything she particularly wanted to do so...

So I was going to propose.

Yes, I was planning on proposing to her today. I'd been giving the matter lots of thought in the two weeks since she'd returned to school. There was no opposition from her father, who I'd come right out and asked two days ago. If she was going to be taken over _The Quibbler _and observe nature after graduation and I was going to be focusing on my grueling initial Healer pre-rounds, then we were already sort of...set for the rest of lives. If we were meant to be together and we'd come to a place where we were comfortably in love, then what the hell?

Really, there was no reason why we shouldn't be together.

I'd even gone ahead and hinted to Mum that she _might_ be in the business of helping for a big event in the next few days. She hadn't seemed to react to my words which meant that she might not have understood what I'd been talking about. Well, no matter. She'd be the first to know before I penned a note to Nai and told the boys.

"Meet up briefly for lunch after Snitchwitch? We'll be over at Tomes and Scrolls to look at books, then Dominic's for some guitar pics for Naira's new guitar."

"How about we meet in an hour Madame Rosmerta's?"

I nodded and waved him off before yanking my cloak tighter around me and heading off to the bookshop. I was beyond excited. I still had the butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

_I'm almost there! _It was probably more of a mental shout than a mental whisper. _Sorry about that._

**_Excited? _**

She had no idea.

_Find anything interesting yet? _I picked up the pace, rounded the corner. With every sense in my body tingling, I knew without a doubt that she was somewhere close. I ran the next few steps. _Anything at all?_

**_A biting book on mythical creatures, another on strange herbs - that one's for Neville._**

I was pushing the door open, barely breathing hard, drilling into the crowd then- I caught sight of that wheat-gold hair and, as if that were a signal, she turned. It was like a damn burst in my head with her proximity. There was too much going on to be coming from one person, and I knew that for sure when I watched a smile spread across her face.

The shop wasn't busy to begin with but it might as well have been empty. All I saw was her. I simply stood there and watched as she made her way to the door. I stared at her for a little while. She just smiled, calmly.

"Hello." Jesus, it felt like I hadn't heard her voice in forever. I mean her mental voice sounded like her but it had _nothing _on the reality of standing in front of her and listening to her talk. She craned her head all the way up. "I've been waiting."

"Hello."

Yes, that was the best I could do at the moment. She tilted her head and put both hands on my chest. I still couldn't move. Ask me if I cared, though. She gazed, I stared.

"Dean." There was a smile playing across her face. "We're blocking the entrance."

"Did you pay for everything?"

She nodded.

"Let's go."

I'd totally meant to enjoy the entire day before I initiated Project Proposal but one look at her and I knew that wasn't going to happen. I stole her hand and tugged her out the shop, down the street, behind the Post office. I whirled around and placed my hands on her shoulders.

She looked expectant.

It threw me off.

I dragged her into a kiss that lasted a lot longer than I'd meant it to since I always got sidetracked when she touched me but I managed to come up for air and remember why I'd dragged her here in the first place. Not so expectant now, she looked tousled.

I dropped to one knee.

"I'm about to ask a question that is going to decide the fate of the world." She arched an eyebrow but her lips edged upwards like she wanted to smile. When she would have spoke, I hushed her. "Nope, no speaking for now. Just listen."

I hid a grin when she adopted a serious mien.

"Ready for it, sweetheart?" She nodded and I slipped a hand into my jacket pocket. A simple small black box with a simple gold band for the most beautiful girl in the world. "So there's this girl - you might know her, her name's Luna Lovegood - and I've been meaning to get her alone so I could ask her something. I want to ask her if she would do me the incredible honor of marrying me?"

Her serious mien cracked. Her face seemed to light up from within as I flipped the box open and presented her with the engagement ring.

"Oh." It was a very nice sort of sigh. I abandoned the box altogether and pulled the ring out, keeping an eye on her face while I slipped it unto her hand. "Oh, oh, yes. She would like that very _very _much."

Luna wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed a kiss to both cheeks. When she pulled back, she looked at the ring in an overly observant manner then looked back at me (still kneeling on the ground, mind you).

"Dean," she said thoughtfully, "did you make sure this wasn't leprechaun gold?"


	16. Epilogue: Moonshine

**Story - Sunlight & Moonshine: Dean and Luna's Story  
Author - Yours Truly, my dear readers.  
Genre - Harry Potter, slightly OOC, post-War  
Preface - Dean Thomas and Luna Lovegood have been found to be a perfect match by the Ministry of Magic's method to find soulmates after the War. Sudden and unexpected, now the two friends must try to look at each other through rose-coloured glasses. But when romantic interest is a stranger to one, and the other has only ever been the unrequited giver, is there any way that love can bloom? Find out in the second installment of the Arranged Marriage series!  
Key - The cross-like figure represents a break in time within the same point of view. The cross surrounded by left and right slashes represents a switch in point of view and, more often than not, a break in time from the previous dialogue.  
Author's Notes: Epilogue. It's been a pleasure, as usual, dear readers. Listened to 'Enchanted' and 'Love Story' by Taylor Swift all throughout this, because it's a little bit of their story given audio form. Ron and Padma's story is posted! Head over to 'Fireworks' for the next MAM installment. I love you guys for reading! Enjoy!**

* * *

Epilogue

Moonshine

_I promise to love you for as long as I shall live, and long after that. - Dean's wedding vow  
There's no space between your heart and mine: they beat the same way. - Luna's wedding vow _

* * *

"We can't sneak away, Dean," Luna whispered back. "It's our wedding after all."

"I promise I'll keep it down to ten minutes," he said back, kissing the shell of his ear to push the cause. "I won't do anything, honest to goodness, sweetheart."

Luna Lovegood Thomas minded her feet as they danced their very first dance as a wedded couple, and smiled into her husband's chest. She had tossed propriety to the wind at the reception and taken off her very pretty but exceptionally tall wedding heels. The green grass behind Dean's family home was soft and springy and felt much better than those shoes. No one had said a word - although Gin had briefly rolled her eyes - and some guests had eventually followed suit. Now that twilight was falling and the dozens and dozens of bright faerie lights strung up in the trees were lighting up, she actually felt like a new person. This day had been amazing and the night was only just beginning. She smiled again when she felt his arms tighten around her waist and pull her close. Perhaps he really meant to keep their time alone down to ten minutes but she knew that kissing usually lead to touching and touching usually lead to...

...very pleasant things that would not be finished in ten minutes.

"We can't sneak away," she repeated as she swayed in his arms, "and I wish you'd keep your hands above board."

That innocent look on his face wasn't fooling her.

"My hands are much much higher than they need be, Mrs. Thomas."

They weren't. He was definitely hovering over her butt, and she knew for a fact that his mother and her father were watching them from the edges of the dance floor. She supposed he thought he could get away with it now that other couples were joining them on the area cleared off for dancing.

"They are much lower than they should be, Mr. Thomas," she replied easily.

"Which is why we should get away since I can't seem to help myself," he whispered easily, now sucking discreetly on her earlobe. "Come on, Lune."

She shivered and Dean sensed victory.

"Not now, anyway. If you can find a way to do it, then-"

"Then, yes?"

He grinned at her, nuzzled her, marveled at how beautiful she looked. He'd had a bit of a heart-attack when she had appeared at the end of that hall in a dress that was as elegant and lacy and artsy as anything he'd ever seen her wear. That damned hall had suddenly seemed as long as that goddamned maze from Fourth Year. He hadn't been able to take in all of her one glance: the strapless sweetheart ball gown, her thin bare shoulders, the delicate bones of her face and shoulders. The cream and the gold and the blinding white-wheat of Luna's hair had worked together to drop his jaw. When she'd started to walk and smile and smile-

Well.

Dean had given up on trying to stop himself from grinning from ear to ear. He'd also decided that it was completely okay to ignore everyone else in the world for the rest of the day.  
Two hours later, he was still enchanted. He watched her shiver again, the most beautiful woman in the world, and grinned. Never let it be said that determination never got anyone anywhere. With Luna, determination had finally gotten them to this place.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, Luna Lovegoood Thomas." He abandoned his hold on her waist for a new one on her face, and tilted her chin upwards so that he could close his eyes and press his forehead against hers. "Meeting you that last Year was the best thing that could have happened to me. You kept me whole, you kept me sane, you kept me feeling when I lost Seamus and Lavender. That day that I wandered back into the Burrow for lunch, you understood. You didn't say a thing. You just knew and you let me be without asking if I was okay."

He opened his eyes and stared directly into hers. He needed to get this out, needed her to know.

"Maybe I should have known it then. I doubt I was smart enough or ready to think about you like that, but hell, the Ministry knew what they were about! This entire summer has been a whirlwind. I'd thought I'd known everything there was to know about you when we became best mates. But then I kept discovering more things that I never knew, seeing new sides that I'd never seen. You are the most amazing woman. You are a friend to so many people - just look at this crowd. You are funny and sweet and have this sense of humor that I appreciate more every day. I dunno why I never saw it before the Law but I know I would have seen it eventually."

She was sure he hadn't meant to make her cry again but there she was, blinking ineffectually against a rush of tears.

"I love you," he said slowly, "I didn't know it at the start of the summer but God, I know it now. I love you with every thing in me, every bit of anger, every bit of happiness, everything everything I have. Every time I look at you, it gets stronger and stronger. I can't imagine anyone else at my side."

"You know I know," she said happily. "What we are...what we've become - it's a blessing. All I've ever wanted was family and I have one. I've never been very good at expressing emotions like this but you make me cry without trying. I feel without trying. I have a family and I have you and that's more than I'd hoped for. I love you more than I had ever thought it was possible to love anyone. You are the absolute best thing that's ever been mine."

They stopped swaying to the lilting melody and he wiped the tears from her face. She let him and he kissed her slowly like they were kissing for the first time. He didn't listen to the murmurs of the guests and she didn't mind the low whistles from the bridal party.

"Never forget that," he said when he pulled away, "especially when you get fed up with me in the future, or when we're trying to figure out how to pay the bills, or when I'm old and doddering and you're taking care of me."

She burst into laughter.

"You never forget that when you're tired of cleaning up after me, or frustrated by my lack of cooking skills. If you promise, I do too."

"You're right. I'm actually getting a worse deal than you are!"

His wife looked mildly shocked.

"What happened to those wedding vows?" she asked with a faint smile. "Do they fail you so quickly?"

He laughed and took her by the hand.

"What-"

_We're going now_, he whispered to her silently. _I don't care if it's the first dance. Let's go for ten minutes._

He pulled her across the grass of their designated dance area and they smiled at guests as they went along. Half of the party was still lingering over the food but the others were mingling and laughing and dancing. Although Headmistress McGonall wouldn't be able to stay for the entirety of the reception, she and most of the Hogwarts teaching staff had put in a rather grand appearance at the new Mrs. Thomas's personal request. Professor Flitwick sent them a cheery wave before returning to a rather animated conversation with Fleur and Bill Weasley. Hagrid shouted something unintelligible that Luna took for 'hello' and Dean took for 'good luck' while Madame Maxime smiled kindly from his side. Harry and Ron winked while the rest of the bridal party seemed to be too involved in dancing to take much notice in the couple's departure.

"It was a good thing we made Naira and Adi bridesmaids as well, isn't it?" Luna whispered, as she watched the shy Adrienne looking unusually happy while cradling Professor Lupin and Tonk's son. "Adi looks so happy."

Dean agreed. She'd even included the twins and Cub and Kit - Sam had held a leashed Cub in one little hand and bore the rings in the other, while Sophie had tripped down the aisle with flowers in her hair and Kit in tow. If anyone had been unsure whether Angela Thomas was in love with her daughter-in-law before the wedding day, they knew without a doubt today that Luna had won over the older Mrs. Thomas completely.

"She does. Everyone does."

She grinned.

"I know. I'm glad your grandparents and the Finnegans could make it."

"I am too."

They walked slowly around the house to the front, and when they got to the porch, he picked her up bridal style and sat on the stairs.

"I bet you thought I'd drag you inside to have my wicked way with you," he murmured into her hair, "don't deny it."

"Then I won't deny it."

She burrowed deeper into his arms and he could feel her smiling again, with or without the mental connection between them.

"Think we can manage five minutes here without interruption?"

She shook her head.

"Two minutes at most. I want you to start painting again."

He looked surprised that she'd brought it up again, outside of their letters. He'd been meaning to get back to his watercolors but it was nice to have her there to give him the final push.

"You mean that? Because that's going to require some commitment on your part, sweetheart." He kissed the side of her face, the tip of her nose, the fluttering eyelids, and finally her lips. "It's been so long that I'll need to practice. This means I need you to pose. Whenever I ask you and however I want you. "

It sounded deliciously risque, and she had to admit she was a little bit thrilled.

"Practice?"

"Every day for the rest of our lives, if I so desire. Promise?"

They gazed at each other before she drew him forward into another kiss.

"Promise."

"Good."

Now, a twinkle appeared in Dean's eye that Luna knew all too well. He stood with her still wrapped in his arms and headed for the front door of his mother's house.

"How about we also get a head-start on the next generation of Thomas in the minute we have left?"

_Then...they lived happily ever after._

**_Fin._**


End file.
